#everybody's gotta do their own thing! i am not fun police here

[knowlesian]

okay: i’ve done the toe scene from several thematic angles already, but i think a more granular text read is worth doing, because there are some very understandable misinterpretations of this scene floating about that rely on personal feelings and real world standards vs what the text gives us.

now, to be clear about something that feels... sort of obvious, but i will say anyway: when viewed in real life terms, the toe scene is very different. it’s bad to sneak up on people and cut off their toe in the night and make them eat said toe.

like, super really bad. for many reasons. we should not do such things, i do not endorse them. that’s legally and morally wrong and also, gross. yucky disgusting, in point of fact. 

but you have to meet fiction where it’s at to analyze it from a ‘what’s the text trying to convey, what’s going on in-world’ level. 

and in ofmd’s world, stede wasn’t super phased about ed’s face/off plan, lucius whacked jim in the head with a big branch trying to run away and then didn’t really bat an eyelash at jim stuffing him in a box and planning to murder him, etc. this is a world of outsized comical things happening, some of them violent. it’s like gonzo getting stretched on the rack in muppet treasure island— if we take that as the real world equivalent and go ‘gonzo is secretly traumatized, even if he’s grinning and yelling POOOOODLEY POODLEY POODLEY!!!’, it’s missing the specific rules the story is playing by.

we have to hold the standards of the text in place when it’s not the ‘i know this isn’t canon’s take, but this is how i want to play with the paper dolls anyway as is my right’ headcanon lane. which is not to devalue said lane— love me some of that lane, but it is a different lane.

now, all that said: within canon, we are not meant to be like ‘yay ed! good job! this is a thing we should root for and a good choice! do it more, this is actually good for anybody involved!’ it’s a choice ed makes in full possession of his faculties, and it is a bad one.

however: the toe scene doesn’t come out of nowhere, and the text does not set it up as a method of real punishment or act of singular brutality.

in e9, ed says he’s tired of “making some poor bloke eat his own toes as a laugh.” and drinking all day. and biting the heads off turtles. you know! just normal stuff. (he also says he wants to be just edward, which implies those activities are not what he considers just being himself which is sort of beside the point here, but a very deft piece of writing that i love and wanted to shout out.)

this show is very, very careful with wording in important moments, even while they allowed for an amazing amount of very cool improv to breathe in between those moments. arguing for a lack of intentionality in random areas seems to be a little bit of an odd stance— we all seem to agree they were very careful and thoughtful in general.

so ed tells us there: cutting off multiple toes and making somebody eat them was something that happened enough he brought it up alongside something as commonplace as drinking all day/turtle head mastication, and it was considered ‘a laugh’.

now, i’m with stede (and the overall narrative) when i say where’s the laugh in that? once again: i do not endorse the cutting off of toes. only you can prevent weird toe crimes, by not fucking doing them.

but e9 contextualizes this within the world of ofmd for us. when ed was hiding in plain sight under the mantle and then the legend of blackbeard, he cut off toes for a laugh. it seems like he never actually liked it that much via ‘poor bloke’, but either way the text has told us: blackbeard cut off toes and made people eat them, casual-like and often enough it’s mentioned in the same breath as going on a bender. the text reaffirms this in specific through ed in e9 and in general in e8 through jack.

so, that leads me to izzy. who has lived with and served under blackbeard for years, and who tells us he was initially attracted to that legend when he mentions becoming ed’s first mate in e4. 

izzy says he was “honored to work for the legendary blackbeard. the most brilliant sailor i had ever met.”

again, the wording is precise: izzy just told us he first met blackbeard. the legendary blackbeard, to be exact, and the most brilliant sailor izzy had ever met. 

so when they met ed was already a brilliant sailor. a legend with a name already made and established, one izzy was attracted to and wanted to work for.

izzy is not so hot at defining his subjective emotional realities or those of the people around him (or... noticing them happening at all) but we see no evidence he is incapable of recalling general timeline of empirical events— in fact, he accurately assesses the passage of literal time as a plot point but misreads the emotional room over and over as well in the same function, so the show is careful with this as they are careful with just about everything.

so izzy wanted to work for a legend. the text tells us so, and i want to be understanding about missing that subtlety in wording and wanting to create a backstory where ed and izzy built blackbeard together. in a vacuum, there’s nothing wrong with that! however, we don't live in a vacuum, we live in a society (tm), and giving izzy credit for ed’s past and his history and efforts unfortunately ends up unconsciously echoing some of the very same patterns the show is deconstructing by purposefully having izzy do that very thing.

because why would we think ed needed izzy to build blackbeard? on this show, of all shows, why would the text be implicitly arguing that ed needed a white man to help create his legend? that he was not smart and careful and talented enough to become the legendary blackbeard on his own, without izzy to guide his steps and keep him safe?

to be honest, on a less careful show, one that emulates old patterns instead of examining and then breaking them, aka ...most shows? i think that would be the story.

ofmd is much more self-aware, as far as i can tell. izzy tells us he wanted to work for a legend and a brilliant sailor; why would we not just believe the characters when they say ed became all that on his own, and izzy was drawn to the legend because ed is just that skilled despite any given limitation the world/his own mind or body puts on him?

that’s not a question i’m asking facetiously. there’s a reason ancient aliens-type shows and theories exist and those kind of people are very rarely like ‘i bet these ancient white people had no fucking idea what they were doing and needed aliens to teach them how to build their massive and technologically advanced civilizations’. sometimes they do argue that! i don't want to argue in bad faith, myself. it does happen on occasion that the accidental condescension gets spread around— but if you look at the bigger picture, there’s a clear pattern in which groups people find it hard to believe did anything impressive all on their own.

and again: i get missing the subtlety here, just like i get missing that fang’s izzy spewing out both ends anecdote is a set-up for a montezuma’s revenge/overall izzy is a metaphor colonizer stuff. i actually missed the montezuma joke myself on first watch, so i’m not out to scold anybody or to be like ‘fuck you for not knowing any of this already’; i’m just trying to point out the fly in the ointment, and hope people think deeper about this stuff before firing off a take that echoes these patterns on accident.

okay, all that said: back to the text and the toe itself.

it's very understandable to process the toe scene as a punishment. ed says threaten me again and more toes WILL BE TAKEN as he does it, which when removed from the larger context of eating toes tuesday being a regular thing in ed and thus also izzy’s old life, seems much more intense. 

not to mention that’s how any normal human would react to what the fuck happens there. i myself would be HORRIFIED, once again i do not endorse non-consensual toe cannibalism and have no comment on any consensual versions other than ‘yeah, i read that hannibal fic too, and it was weird then hate to kink shame but i do not wish to have my toe cut off so i may consume it. please stop asking me about toe cannibalism as anything but thematic meat. this is a strange place to find myself in.’

but izzy is not us, the audience. izzy is a daddy moaning little nightmare. he wants to touch fire: he is the least healthy masochist on gay god’s green earth and the deep blue sea. he is weeeeeird about this shit and has never even heard of the acronym ss&c, let alone rack. 

he is the sort of man who is like ED. BE A TOE CUTTING LEATHER DADDY. THAT IS WHAT IS COOL AND FUN FOR ALL OF US, NOBODY LOSES HERE. LOL EXCEPT ME! I LOSE A TOE, AND I MAKE IT EVEN WEIRDER WHEN I REFUSE TO BE ANYTHING BUT THRILLED ABOUT IT.

within the world ofmd created, they made sure to set up that Ye Olde Blackbearde cut off toes for a laugh. and one episode after they carefully gave us that precedent, izzy thrust a monstrous caricature of ed in his face and said: this is blackbeard. by no logical leap could izzy possibly be ignorant of the forced toe-eating, regularly done as just a fun little game to play at sea, just like drinking all day, or biting the heads off turtles. not if he’s known ed for years and was attracted to the legend of a man who did shit like that.

so izzy is saying to ed: be this guy again. the narrative made sure we know part of that is being the guy who casually cuts off toes for a laugh.

so when izzy smiles that big ridden hard and put away wet smile and proclaims hey la, hey la my boyfriend’s back? he's being sincere. he wanted ed to be the guy who cuts off toes like it’s not a thing again, and edward did that for him. he’s been reassured that the old blackbeard is himself again, and that’s why he says so. 

(and that’s why canon set it up so that we would know: this toe thing is an old, established bit, which was not done as anything but a fun little prank.)

now, if anybody wants to write fic in the real world logic applies au, i will not poop upon that party. that’s not my issue, in part because i also think there’s utility to saying yeah but counterpoint, canon: i do what i want. 

my angle is that if we talk textual analysis and actual canon, we have to meet stories and characters on their level and look at the world from their perspective. 

ed and izzy (and jack, which is a lot of his narrative utility in e8 beyond just throwing a wrench in the works and setting up the arc with the navy and thus endgame, fuuuuuck me running these writers are just ridiculously good) both reaffirm this, in their separate ways.

textually, the person who most hates the toe scene is ed. izzy said be the guy cut toes off again; ed said he doesn’t want to do that. that’s the text itself, no extrapolation.

now, having said all that: i hope and assume izzy will come to realize this shit is very weird and bad behavior, knock it off and then course correct. 

to own my personal bias, my activist fantasy is not that men like izzy— or my personal izzys, for values of people who actively hurt me in specific— suffer or that they feel exactly what they made me feel. my fantasy is they wake up one morning, look at me, and go well fuck. i’ve been kinda shitting the bed here, huh? i’m gonna fight for my natural allies now, not against them. solidarity!!!! then i am validated, they can become happier people, and there’s one more of Us and one less of Them. the better world i’m fighting for ultimately wins, in that fantasy.

i’m not saying that’s where anyone else has to be, to be clear; it’s just where i’m at.

so when i try to read the tea leaves on the potential of that being what happens with izzy, i could 100000000% be reading in what i would like to see and not what is there. that’s always a thing that could happen, on any given prediction, and to say otherwise would be silly.

however: when it comes to the toe and its precedent and context, that’s not attempting to suss out future movement. that’s reading the text with my own biases acknowledged and set to the side as much as possible, and trying to see what the characters of this world, with this world’s rules feel about what happened vs what i would feel, in my world with my rules.

because, i must reiterate to close: oh GOD, i do not endorse the nonconsensual cutting off of toes. just don’t do it.

tldr: it’s important to recognize the tropes we might be reinforcing on accident, and though the toe scene is horrifying real world terms in terms of how izzy the character in the text’s world processes it, the toe is ed coming through for him and being the blackbeard of the old days— who we were purposefully told used to regularly cut off toes and feed them to people as a laugh.

...and just. because i think i might have to, just one final time for good measure: please don’t cut off people’s toes. nothing in this piece is an endorsement of doing that in our real world. it's bad.

#our flag means death #like: look. please do not cut off toes i am begging people not to misunderstand me #in the real world none of this is okay #but in the world of the show (which is the world i am analyzing) and not of headcanon #they gave us all this context and setup for a reason #also: i know nobody is consciously being all ancient aliens about ed and izzy #and yet... it is happening #everybody's gotta do their own thing! i am not fun police here #but the pattern exists and it is what it is #and if your fun means ignoring why exactly people like me hate ancient aliens #then i think that's an indication to consider: why is my fun not fun if i'm honest about history at the same time #and does that mean anything else? #anyway yes now back to lucius and pete and how stede has filled the ship with chintz #but to keep it real they fuck on the floor #my ofmd meta

[ratofthemedievalsewers]

Heart of Steel - Part I

DBH Connor x Male Reader

Word Count: 2.5K+

Content warning: Minor injury detail, PTSD, language

Original game dialogue I got from this video:

https://youtu.be/32Np9LKI1Vg

We were attacked in the night.

After returning from a mission back to an outpost several miles from the red zone, we removed our gear save for a few pouches on our belts we could bother with later. Our team leader set up a fire while the SQ800s, CyberLife commissioned combat androids, began loading up the trucks with extra artillery and resources. A job that could have waited until morning, but Alpha always gave the androids something to do. He said that they creeped him out when they would just stand there in a dormant state, waiting for their next mission to be given to them.

"You know what I'm going to do when I get home?"

"Here we go again."

"I'm going to get me a WR400," Foxtrot; not everyone's favourite but he certainly kept us entertained when there was nothing to do.

"Uh-huh and with what money are you going to be using to pay for this WR400? A military salary definitely ain't gonna cut it." Echo always called out Foxtrot's bullshit, he was the only one that had the patience to deal with him.

"Fine, my birthday is comin' up, if you put towards two-thirds of what it costs we can share. How does that sound?"

"I am not sharing anything with you, I don't know what diseases you carry." Their constant back forth sent chuckles through the group.

"Alright, that's enough you two. It's getting late and past everyone's bedtime, I want you all awake by O-five-hundred at the latest," Alpha would often stop them before Foxtrot would take it too far, but he could never hide the twitching smile on his face.

"Yes sir," Foxtrot mock saluted as he stood from his seat around the campfire. "Hey Echo, that offer is still-"

One moment Foxtrot had a wide grin on his face, the next there was a hole in his head between his eyes, the sound of gunshot ringing in everyone's ears.

"SHOTS FIRED! GET TO COVER NOW!"

"FOXTROT IS DOWN! I REPEAT, FOXTROT IS DOWN!"

It was dark, we couldn't see where they were firing from. The android was the only one still standing, firing off in random directions as they were gunned down. The next was Delta, shot in the left shoulder, then the throat. My gun was back in my tent and there was no chance of me getting it. Stupid.

"MEDIC! GET TO DELTA! NOW!"

"GRENADE!"

I heard the thump by my feet before I saw it. You would think it would be terrifying, to know you're staring death in the face, but for a second it was peaceful. My body was cold and I already felt like a corpse, the Rigour Mortis freezing me in place, just softly gazing at what would kill me.

Something grabbed me before the grenade exploded, saving my life but destroying the android.

The bedsheets were crumpled and soaked in sweat again when my eyes shot open. It was hard to breathe, the panic was still running through me and closing up my throat at the memory.

In; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four. Out; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four.

It took a few minutes for me to remember where I was. That I was home and that I was safe. Out of nervous habit, I gripped my dog tags, they were wet from the sweat that had soaked through my shirt in the night.

"Shit." It was four in the morning, there was no chance of getting any more sleep and the station wouldn't be open for another two more hours at the least. Saying that; Fowler wanted to speak to me first thing, which never meant anything good for anyone.

It was aching again at the joint. The biomechanical component always felt itchy where it joined at the elbow. Anytime I would have that dream I would scratch at it in my sleep, it was like my subconscious knew it didn't belong. It knew my rotting left arm was still in the desert somewhere being picked apart by vultures.

It's almost ironic; to be saved by an android and then to have part of one attached to me. I hated it.

*****

"Morning Cyborg, you look like shit." Gavin was forever pleasant to talk to.

"Fuck off, Reed." He constantly hovered around the coffee machine, hogging it like it was his newborn baby. "Is Fowler in yet?"

"Not yet, you in trouble?" He took his time making his coffee, exceeding in being the department's resident asshat. "Did he catch you looking at porn on your work terminal again?"

"I'm pretty sure that's only ever happened to you." Not wanting to be reminded of his previous escapades I got no response. Gavin let out a small huff before moving to the side with his fresh cup of coffee, freeing up the machine.

"Officer (L/N)." Oh for fuck's sake.

"Sir?" Captain Fowler stood outside his office, his coat half soaked from the rain.

"My office, I need to speak to you." He didn't give a second glance to me before turning and letting the glass door shut behind him.

"Ha, good luck cyborg." Shooting Gavin the middle finger, I followed Captian Fowler into his office.

"What was it you wished to talk about, sir?" Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight and hands behind my back; habits from the army were destined to die hard. Often I would find myself moving my hand up to salute before leaving the presence of a superior, something else for Gavin to make fun of.

"You're aware of the deviant cases I've assigned to Lieutenant Anderson, correct?" Fowler sat at his desk, wet coat now hung on its rack, but there was slight dampness to his suit blazer where his coat had been left open.

"Yes sir. I believe he's being accompanied by a prototype RK800 from Cyberlife."

"That's correct. I'm sure you're aware that these deviancy cases are on the more..."

"Dangerous?"

"...Unpredictable side. Now, I can't exactly issue a gun to a prototype android if it's going to be in the field and, while I value Hank as a police officer, his record is on the rougher side."

"Captain Fowler, with all due respect, I don't believe-"

"Office (L/N), with all due respect, you don't have an opinion in this matter. I want you to accompany Lieutenant Anderson in these assignments just in case a deviant becomes too much for him or this android to handle. You've certainly got the skillset for it and you're not unfamiliar with working alongside androids, unlike quite a few officers in this department."

"I understand that, but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say I don't want to hear it." Captain Fowler didn't give me a chance to argue as he stood and walked to his office door, the annoyed look on his face worsening. "Hank, in my office!"

I let out a sigh before Captain Fowler turned back to his desk. Through the office wall made of glass Hank reluctantly made his way towards us grumbling something under his breath at the request, the RK800 model obediently following behind him like a little, lost puppy. Hank sat in the chair opposite Fowler while the android stood next to me, giving a small smile as a greeting.

Captain Fowler was the first to talk, "I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day. We've always had isolated incidents, old ladies losing their android maids and that kind of crap... But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night. This isn't just cyberlife's problem anymore, it's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan. I want you to investigate these cases, alongside officer (L/N) and see if there's any link."

"Why me? And why do I need a god damned partner? A stupid android is already too much. Why do I gotta be the one to deal with this shit?" Props to Hank for trying, but arguing with Fowler was like talking to a brick wall. "I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case! I know jack shit about androids, Jeffery. I can barely change the settings on my own phone."

"Everybody's overloaded. I think you're perfectly qualified for this type of investigation," They were already starting to blow up at each other.

"Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag!"

"CyberLife sent over this android to help with this investigation and I've given you (L/N) as well. You've got a state of the art prototype and a leading police officer to act as your partners."

"No fuckin' way! I don't need partners, and certainly not this plastic prick and some action hero fucker."

"Nice working with you too, Lieutenant Anderson," I said under my breath, not intending for the others to hear. Connor turned his head slightly in my direction, I could see his LED blink yellow for a moment before going back to its bright blue.

"Hank, you are seriously starting to piss me off! You are a police lieutenant, you are supposed to do what I say and shut your goddamn mouth!"

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh?"

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that, so I don't have to add any more pages to your disciplinary folder 'cause it already looks like a fuckin' novel! This conversation is over."

"Jeffrey, Jesus Christ! Why are you doin' this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things. Why are you doin' this to me?" Most of the department knew why he had such a distaste towards androids, no one could necessarily blame him. Ever since losing his son Hank had become completely different as both a person and an officer. Admittedly, Fowler was harsh on him, but if he wasn't then Hank would drift.

"I've had just enough of your bitching. Either you do your job or you hand in your badge. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." Hank left in a strop, letting out his frustration on Fowler's office door.

"Well then..." Connor was quick to break the tense silence. His voice caught me off guard, it was smoother, more human than any android's I had heard before. The SQ800's voices had always been more robotic than other models so it had been a shock when the androids back home had sounded so normal, it felt like that all over again. It was jarring. "I won't keep you any longer. Have a nice day captain."

Connor left and I followed behind, giving a small nod of dismissal to Fowler despite him still looking at his terminal screen.

The android went straight to Hank either oblivious or ignoring the lieutenant's current bad mood, granted there was never a time the bastard was in a good mood. Heaven itself could rain down on Detroit and he'd huff at it like a hair in his food.

"I got the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that. In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very to be working with you." Ever the enthusiast.

"I'd give in now. You're talking to a toddler in a fifty-year old's body and the toddler is having a hissy fit." I half sat and half leant against Hank's desk, using my arms to support my weight.

"Apologies, I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by CyberLife." He turned to me, a gentle and manufactured smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to be working with you too, officer (L/N). I'm sure we'll make a great team."

"Er... (Y/N) is just fine."

"Is there a desk anywhere I could use?"

"No one's using that one." Hank points to the desk opposite him, while still sulking like a child.

"Gasp, it speaks," I said in a sarcastic tone while turning to Hank.

"Fuck off. I've already got an android on my ass, I don't need you on it too."

I grabbed a terminal pad before perching myself back at the edge of Hank's desk while Connor got comfortable at the empty one. The light at the side of his head flashing yellow for a moment like he was hesitant to speak."You have a dog, right?"

"How do you know that?"

"The dog hairs on your chair. I like dogs. What's your dog's name?"

"What's it to you?" Hank shifted in his seat, "...Sumo... I call him Sumo."

"Under all those shitty shirts and questionable stains there's a warm, beating heart," I say more to myself than the other two, skimming over the recent case files sent in by Fowler.

"Officer (L/N)... (Y/N), knowing that we'd be working together I read your academy and field records. You have quite an interesting background."

"Oh yeah, then you understand that I may be a little driven to get these cases over with. I can't say I'm a fan of you terminators."

"I understand you have a... warped view of androids due to what you've experienced, but I hope you understand that I am your partner and not your enemy."

"Connor, you're not my partner, you're cyberlife's latest gizmo for us kick around." I sigh, turning to sit at my desk adjacent to hanks, taking the terminal pad with me. "Just look through the deviant case files. Terminals on your desk, knock yourself out."

They're nothing but machines. They are not your friends.

"Two-hundred and forty-three files, the first date back nine months. It all started in Detroit... And quickly spread across the country." Connor had only connected the terminal moments before.

"Don't work your CPU too hard," I mutter under my breath, catching a quick huff of amusement from Hank.

"An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation." Hank was doing his best to pretend Connor didn't exist, but the android was persistent. Connor stood from his chair and made his way into Hank's personal space.

"Uh, Jesus..." Hank turned his chair away.

"I understand you're facing personal issues, Lieutenant, but you need to move past them and-" For an android, Connor has some balls on him.

"Hey! Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, okay?" Hank's mood had soured like milk, it wouldn't be long until Fowler was adding another page to Hank's disciplinary folder.

"I've been assigned this mission Lieutenant, I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working."

"Connor, you're just gonna-" I had wasted my breath, Hank had already stood and was grabbing onto Connor by the collar of his Cyberlife jacket and slamming against the screen next to his desk. "Hank!"

"Listen asshole. If it were up to me, I'd rather throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off... or things are gonna get nasty."

"Hank," I placed a hand on his shoulder to try and lightly pull him away from Connor but only earned a nasty side-eye. "Leave off him, you don't get paid enough to replace him."

"Lieutenant... Officer (L/N), uh... sorry to disturb you," Looks like the tin can was saved before Hank could knock the light out of him, "I have some information on the AX400 that killed that guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district."

"I'm on it." Hank didn't glance back when he dropped Connor's collar. The puppy dog look on his face almost made me feel bad for him... almost.

"Come on, WALL-E. Don't want to keep the old man waiting."

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #dbh fanfic #dbh x reader #dbh x male reader #connor x male reader #connor rk800 #male reader #m! reader #connor x m!reader

[arysthaeniru]

...I hear you’re doing drabble giveaways? :) I would love some nishitani/majima!! I saw you wanted to write a nishitani lives au and i hope you end up doing it because I would love to see how you write them ❤️

Aaaahhhh, thank you for this request <3 I hope you enjoy this little snippet, I really like Nishitani’s dynamic with Majima, because it’s so much about temptation and vices and flagrant hedonism that makes Majima value himself more as a person. Nishitani’s whole shtick is about pleasure and when Majima of Yakuza 0 is convinced he doesn’t deserve that, it makes for an excellent dynamic. 

Somehow Nishitani has found Club Sunshine. Majima notices him on one of their busiest days, on the tailend of dealing with a problem customer, who'd had issues with the quality of their champagne. He's cloistered himself in one of the back booths, entertained by Saki-chan.

Majima snaps to attention and rushes over to the booth, even though Saki hasn't made the hand signal for help yet. He snaps his fingers, once, twice. "Out." He says, shortly, and feels a slow curl of rage within him as Nishitani just turns to give Majima a once-over, slow and lingering, smirk spreading over his face.

"Majima-kun, I didn't think ya'd turn down a payin’ customer." Nishitani drawls, with a self-satisfied grin.

"Payin’ customer or not, yer trouble. Out." Majima snaps, stiffly.

Saki turns to look at Majima, anxiously, but she doesn't seem especially perturbed by Nishitani's presence. What is it about his charm where somehow, girls who dislike being taken for granted, are magically alright with Nishitani's presence? The girls at the Grand too, had been surprisingly unfazed by Nishitani breaking Majima's 'Look-Don't-Touch' rules. "Majima-san..." she says, in that tone that means she's worried about him.

"Ya all good here?" Majima asks Saki, gently. For all that she's a strong woman who is used to taking care of herself, Majima wants her to know she can rely on him to defuse anything uncomfortable for her.

"Don't be so paranoid, Majima-kun. We're getting along just fine!" Nishitani squeezes Saki's bicep, in an overly-friendly way, and Majima scowls when Saki just giggles, not even vaguely discomfited.

"Not talking ta you, am I? Shaddup."

"I'm fine, Majima-san." Saki says, with a sunny smile.

Majima grimaces to and turns his gaze on Nishitani. It's a busy night. He really can't insist on running Nishitani away, not if he's going to behave himself and get them money. He's got other girls to take care of. "One step outta line, and I call the police, pronto. Ya won't get ta fight me at all." Majima says, firmly, and turns on his heel to walk away, before he can get a response.

Inbetween getting refills for Yuki and towels for Erranda, Majima hears snippets of their conversation all evening.

"I like my lovers strong, intent. Makes everything more fun, ya know?" "Nothin’ draws the eye more than a girl who's confident in herself." "Gotta love somebody who can take care of 'emselves."

The whole time, Saki just laughs, handles herself with her usual graceful aplomb, steers the conversation in pleasant, easy directions, showing off her prowess as the former star of Club Jupiter, perfectly adept at handling rougher types.

Majima seethes, quietly and tries to not watch them, listen to them. But he can't help it. Whenever he has even a momentary breather, his peripheral senses can't help but turn towards Nishitani. He justifies it to himself as keeping an eye out for trouble, but if he's being really honest with himself, that's not the primary reason.

Majima's always been drawn to strength. It's the one thing that has always shaped his path, shaped his destiny. It had been what had drawn to him to Saejima, like a moth to the flame, in the middle of those Tokyo streets as a youth. It had been what convinced Majima to chain himself to Shimano’s yoke, get the man’s motifs and markings all over his back. It had been what made Majima so comfortable in Fei Hu’s shop, and so familiar with Lee’s rough approach. A mixture of sheer adrenaline, blood-thumping through his entire chest, a shot of courage, fury and wild chaos, and desire, slow and cloying, curling up in the pit of his stomach, making him light-headed and short of breath. Majima’s life has been defined and drawn around strength, power, desire, ambition.

And Nishitani’s powerful. He’d felt the surges of his strength, precision and cleverness throughout that short fight through the Grand’s centre-stage. If Majima had slipped even once, if Majima had been anything less than perfect, propelled by the fury of confusion, he would have died to Nishitani’s blade.

That shouldn’t be as much of a turn-on as it is.

Especially not when considering Nishitani’s about twenty years past his prime. He’s from the same generation as Shimano, Sagawa, those old fucks who’ve caged him in, trapped him down. With freckled sun-spots smattered over wrinkling skin, and touches of grey to the roots of his hair, and his scarred, calloused hands, Majima shouldn’t be drawn to him in that way. Old, pervy fucker, he should represent everything Majima hates most about the generation of yakuza above him.

But he can’t help it. Nishitani’s presence is like a livewire, electrifying, dangerous, addictive. And Majima couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to.

When the evening shift draws to a close, Majima leaves Youda and Yuki to be in charge of wiping down the place and saying goodbye to the last of the customers. He dips out for a smoke instead, to try and gain control of his fraying nerves, to pull himself back into a modicum of calm. He can’t lose himself in this.

He’s not yakuza anymore. Just a man desperately trying to stay alive long enough to let Saejima kill him. And a man trying desperately to preserve any sense of goodness, keep that fragile spark of a girl safe inside that cold warehouse... none of him has room for Nishitani’s advances.

And yet...

“You ever consider lettin’ yer hair free, Majima-kun? Just for a moment?” Nishitani drawls, voice dangerously close to Majima’s. They’re outside the club now, and he’s not a paying customer anymore. That makes this interaction dangerous.

“No.” Majima says, puffing out a cool breeze of smoke straight into Nishitani’s face. The fucker doesn’t even flinch, just grins, that lightly mocking smile.

“Not even once? Shame that. Pretty things like you only gets better when they cut loose a little, live free.” Nishitani says, sauntering around to prop himself up over Majima, trapping him into the wall. It’s at once a threat of aggression, and a threat of something else, something more sensible. His hand comes in close, as if to caress Majima’s hair, but he stops just short of doing it, balances it against the wall instead.

Perhaps he senses Majima’s internal tension, perhaps he knows that Majima will deck him the moment Nishitani lays a hand on him. Or maybe it’s something like respect for Majima’s rules. (Majima dismisses that thought immediately, Nishitani wouldn’t know respect if it came up to him and sucked his dick.)

Despite himself, Majima swallows a little, as he takes another deep inhale of the cigarette. “The fuck do you want? I ain’t tellin’ you where Makoto is.”

Nishitani grins. From up close, Majima can smell the alcohol on his breath, whiskey, cigarettes and something else, a little deeper. It’s not exactly a good smell, but it’s a familiar smell, a comfortable smell. Nishitani is the epitome of the yakuza lifestyle that Majima had grown up desiring.

“Don’t worry, Majima-kun. I ain’t here for that today. Got a little proposition for ya, instead.” he says, licking his lips. Majima can’t look away from his mouth, the slight pinkness of his tongue against his surprisingly dark lips, and so he almost misses Nishitani’s next sentence. “Got a job I need ya ter do for me.”

Majima frowns. “The fuck would I do that for?”

“Issa job only you can do” Nishitani grins, and waggles his eyebrows. “Compensate ya handsomely, of course.”

Majima rolls his eyes, but honestly, for cash-money, he’ll do just about anything for anybody, short of prostitution. Anything to get his debt to Shimano and Sagawa square. “What?” he asks, pretending to be bored, pretending none of this interests him.

“There’s this gambling club I run that’s been real trouble, lately. Won’t listen to a damn word I say, and they seem to be squirreling some cash away, some big winnings they managed to poach from a pack of fools. Can’t have that sort of shit on my turf.” Nishitani says, with a casual ease. “I’d send my boys in, but ya see, someone seems ta have done a number on ‘em, and they look about as threatening as a flock of pigeons, all covered in bandages like they are.”

“You could do it yerself.” Majima says, gaze darting down to Nishitani’s feet. Just over the edge of his socks, Majima can see the bandages, and he’s noticed that Nishitani holds himself with a limp. He’s clearly still injured from their fight, when Majima had shoved his fucking knife right inbetween his tendons.

“I could, but ya see, they know my face. They’d gear up for trouble the moment I stepped within a five-foot vicinity. You on the other hand...” Nishitani leans in, that smug grin only getting bigger.

Majima snorts, before he can stop himself. “Ya say that like everybody in this town doesn’t know my face, too.”

“Lord of the Night.” Nishitani agrees, and his voice hums with approval. “But ya see, yer reputation precedes you. Everybody knows ya don’t start fights, ya end them. So if you started a fight at the gambling parlour, not a damn soul would expect it.” There’s a crazed glint to Nishitani’s eyes, reflecting off the neon signs from the bars around them, and Majima shouldn’t be considering this at all, but he is. The thought of going in and smashing heads of people who actually deserve it always gets Majima’s blood simmering. He can’t help himself. He’s a creature nurtured on a diet of violence, and the Hole has changed him. It shaped him in the image of its own cruelty, and Majima had let its madness into his soul, or he would never have lived to see the sunlight again.

Majima wonders what had made Nishitani this way.

“The fuck would I jeopardize my rep for? For you?” asks Majima, dangerously.

“I’ll owe ya one, just the pleasure of seein’ ya go crazy in there.” Nishitani says, leaning inwards, mouth just centimetres from Majima’s ear. “Whatever ya want, name it.”

Majima’s skin is alit with goosebumps, he feels like a leaf in the breeze, one touch would undo him, undo all of Majima’s tightly laced boundaries, would unravel everything that has kept him safe and alive. If Nishitani pressed even an inch closer, Majima would agree to just about anything he asked. And they both know it, it’s the electric spark between them, Nishitani’s complete understanding of how fragile everything about Majima’s existence is.

But Nishitani doesn’t touch him, just lets his breath caress the inner curve of Majima’s ear and pulls back, eyes glinting with maleficent amusement.

He wants Majima to make the step on his own. He wants Majima to come apart at his own behest. Fucking sadist.

“Well. Let me know. Ya know where ta find me.” Nishitani says, slow and languid. “Be seein’ ya, Majima-kun.”

He saunters away without a care in the world, and Majima lets the cigarette drop from his mouth and presses his back against the wall outside Club Sunshine, desperately trying to quell the fire within him that blazes in indignation at letting Nishitani just walk away from him.

#nishitani homare #majima goro #majima #yakuza #rgg #nishimaji #this was fun to write hehehehe

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Kill Me Hardly (Ch. 2)

Notes: Warnings are in the first chapter. It’s a dark fic, please heed the tags, and proceed with caution that this is a triggering fic.

Thank You, @youtubequeens for brainstorming with me! <3 

“It’s always been you.” Cold. His voice was so cold and empty, just as his pupils were, as he regarded you with a stone faced expression. This was a dream, you thought with dread. Please go back to happy thoughts. Anything! You were tired of reliving this nightmare.  

“There are no happy thoughts.” He said, as if reading your mind. No, no, no!

Sharp. Pain. Shock. It’s the only things that you could process as you let out a scream, alarming your sleeping parents who were sleeping in the next room. You held tightly onto your throat, blood seeping quickly onto the floor as you could only think about the fast pacing question of why, and if you were going to die like this, cold and empty on your bedroom floor.

“Hey!” The familiarity of the voice hit you. Wha-?  This voice didn’t belong here. Your vision faded to black as your bedroom, your brother’s fleeing figure, and the blurry images of your parents rushing towards you, had disappeared.

“Wake the fuck up!” Your eyes snapped open at the command. Blurry. Your vision was blurry as you tried to regain your focus. Your hands, although ethereal, could touch your own face as you felt the cold wetness littering your cheeks.

Blonde? You focused on the soft tufts, then realization washed over you. Taishiro was leaning over you, a look of concern and his usual annoyance was evident in his expression. It was the first time you’ve seen him without his villain getup, and at first, you secretly admitted to yourself, it was as if you were staring at the face of an angel. He was instead wearing a nightgown, of all things, and you kept your not-so-innocent thoughts to yourself as you avoided looking at well toned muscles and fat.  

“Hi.” You murmured instead, and he leaned back, and sighed.

“Holy shit, do ya have issues.” A rude, violent criminal of an angel who sort of wanted to kill you. You didn’t know, anymore. Nor, did you care. You sat up, surprised that you didn’t faze through the couch as he lit up another cigarette, staring at you.

“Those are bad for you.” You opted, rubbing the access tears away from your eyes.

“Shut up. Still not over bein’ pissed at ya. Damned stalker ghost.” He huffed out a puff of smoke with mock anger, seemingly calmer than last night. Sunlight filtered through the beams, the smoke dancing within it. You vaguely remembered your father calling it “Angel’s Hellfire” as he puffed out the disgusting smell into the innocent-looking beam of sunlight.

“You said you could use my help.” You broke the silence, instead. He hummed.

“What could go wrong with usin’ a pair of eyes from a body that can’t be seen? Not today, though. Meet here, tonight.”

“I don’t have anything else to do, though.” You pouted. His eye twitched.

“Fuckin’ find somethin’ to do, then!”

“No. I tried everything. Plus, you’re a sight for sore eyes. I think I can just hang around and stare at you, today.” You grinned sharply at his sudden wide-eyed expression, a small tinge of pink dusted his ears.

“Go peek on some porn industry, you fuckin’ pervert! I got shit to do that doesn’t involve ya! Bad enough ya know my identity!” He growled out, and you couldn’t help but eat it up. Who knew that a well-known villain would act this way? He wasn’t use to the attention, was your guess, but it didn’t matter.

“Nope~! You can’t get rid of me, Tai, so you might as well give up.” You shrugged, receiving a dark and murderous look.

“Yer over-steppin’ yer boundaries.”

“Says the villain who beats people bloody and steals their wallets. Who am I going to tell? The Ghostbusters?” You grinned, and he couldn’t help but snort out a huff of laughter.

“Touche. Fine. Can’t get rid of yer ass, anyway.” He grumbled out. You smiled in victory.

“Unless you get a priest.” You offered, and his eyes sparkled at the idea. Oh, this should be fun.

“Yeah. Maybe he can bless yer ass, an’ finally send you up to heaven or whatever. Don’t hafta deal with my secrets getting’ out.” He smiled at the prospect, and you frowned.

“Or I could wake up and tell everybody.”

He looked at you, unimpressed.

“Tch. Cheeky brat. Even if ya said anythin’, who’s gonna believe a comatose nut who just woke up, hm?”  

“Touche.” You repeated his words, and he sighed.

“Let’s get today over with.” He grumbled, stripping off his gown. You adverted your eyes, staring at the area around you for once since you’ve entered, and were in shock. Multiple unlit candles cluttered the shelves and desk, each one was either limited edition or a unique one you’ve never seen before. It didn’t stop there, no. He had wax warmers, one in the kitchen, and one in the living room, you counted at least fifteen different wax melt scents laying about.

“Thought you’d said that you’d stare at me.” He bit, breaking out of your rambling thoughts as he noticed you looking around.

“Only if you wanted me to. Consent’s important, Tai-chan. Besides, your place is nicer than what I’ve expected.” You hummed, looking at the three different laundry soaps within the kitchen.

“I’m a thief, not dirty. ‘Sides, that’s rich comin’ from a stalker ghost.” He quipped.

“Maybe Kami or whatever deity’ll forgive me. Although, I rather they beg for my forgiveness.”

“You an’ me both. C’mon, let’s get this shit over with.” He hummed as he opened the door, locking it behind him as he shut it. You followed him, floating through as you noticed his wear. It was different, far from villainous. Orange, white, and red decorated his form in the shape of a hoodie, while he sported lighter colored jeans and dark orange sneakers. He looked rather normal, not somebody who would punch somebody in the throat.

The first stop was a love hotel.

“Shut up.” He growled at your raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t say anything.” You replied.

“You’re gonna.” He quipped.

“Well, yeah. A love hotel, Tai-chan? Should I leave you to your privacy?” You wiggled your eyebrows, and he rolled his eyes.

“It’s only fer business. I get my kicks above the waistline, Sunshine.” He huffed, ignoring curious stares as he followed onward, letting the clerk check him in. The two of you stayed in the lobby in what had seemed minutes, him barely giving you his attention as you stared at everything, taking in the faces of people you barely even recognize.

“Ah, Toyomitsu.” A chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts as a strange man came out of nowhere to greet him without an honorific. Scars. Burn scars littered skin that wasn’t covered by a ragged t-shirt. You didn’t want to be rude and stare, but then you remembered that only Taishiro could see you. Toyomitsu? The name rang nicely within your head.  

“Yo, Dabi. This is fer the girls. Kai-san was a lil’ harder to deal with, but he parted with it rather graciously.” A dark grin sported on Taishiro’s face as he handed the money to “Dabi”. Said man smiled slowly, eyes crinkling with a pleased look.

“You never fail to deliver, do you? Anyway, this is more than enough to feed Ai-chan’s brat. I’ll let the boss know that you’ve done well. Good day, Toyomitsu.” He bowed.

“Likewise, Scarecrow.” Taishiro grinned out the nickname, repaying the pleasantries as he copied the bow, much to your surprise. After the man left, you turned your attention to the now scowling man.

“What…?” You offered, but he paid you no heed as he exited the lobby of the hotel, you following after.

“-the hell was that about?” You asked him when the both of you were outside.

“He has a clutch of girls who work fer him. Y’know, prostitution? The man an’ his boss’re hirin’ me to deliver money an’ goods to the girls, so they can continue workin’ in fine, safe conditions. I give’em half the cut I steal, an’ they keep the cops n’ shit at bay.” He offered, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“So...you’re not just a thief, but you’re a gentleman thief?” You asked, and he scoffed.

“Yeah, I guess ya can say that.” He bit his bottom lip in what seemed to be embarrassment, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing, oddly enough.

“How endearing.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He snapped.

“No, but seriously! You could, I don’t know, support drug addicts, or violent gangs who kill people, but you’re not.” You hummed, and much to your surprise, he turned to look at you.

“Who says I don’t? Stop it with your optimistic bullshit. I’m a villain. I don’t really care ‘bout others.” He said with a cold conviction, you stilled at the familiar lack of warmth in his irises as he bared his teeth at you.

 There was a lie within his statement, but you didn’t dare comment on it, for you both knew it.  

“You’ve got issues.” You repeated his words from earlier, and he just turned around, ignoring you as you followed him.

“I know everybody’s got their problems, but taking it out on people isn’t healthy. Neither is smoking. Nor beating the devil out of innocent police officers.” You rambled, counting your fingers as he sighed with pure frustration.

“When I find yer fuckin’ body, I’m going to strangle you.” He growled out.

“That’s nice and all, Tai-chan, but there’s an old granny standing behind you.” You pointed, not really caring.

He whirled around, and sure enough, there was an old lady fixing her spectacles as she looked up at him.

“You’re going to bangle me?” She put a hand to her ear, and you could hear a sigh of relief.

“No, no, Miss! I was talkin’ to myself! Gotta bang those bangles….uh, fer the band!” He gave out a sweet false smile. No way in hell was that going to-

“Ah! You’re in the band! Good luck, Dear!” She gushed, pinching his cheek, hobbling away on her cane.

He turned towards you.

“I’m gonna find a fuckin’ priest.”

“Please do.”

……..

It didn’t take too long to find one. Although he didn’t seem one for Buddhism, he knew where to find a temple, oddly enough.

“What can I do for you?” The monk asked politely.

“I need a ward against an evil spirit.” He bit out.

“Don’t forget to confess to your sins.” You added.

“A really, evil, dangerous spirit who’s been talkin’ shit an’ stalkin’ me.” He grounded, and the monk, ignoring such language, nodded.

He handed Taishiro some white pieces of paper with kanji written on them.

“These should do. May you find peace against this evil.” He bowed, Taishiro thanked him, grinning as you huffed out a laugh as the two of you walked away from the temple.

“Lemme see if this fuckin’ works.” He didn’t give you any warnings as he placed a ward to your forehead.

Nothing happened. He then sneered as you began laughing at his attempts to wave the paper through your form in anger.

“This is asshattery!” His eyebrows furrowed into exasperation. You tried to touch the sigil, but no avail.

“I guess it’s for evil spirits, not ghosts in limbo.” You shrugged.

“Kami! Damn it! Ugh.” He palmed his face, looking at you with an exasperated look through his fingers. You beamed.  

“Let’s go to the next place, then.” He gave in, and you smiled behind him, floating along to wherever else.

……….

“This should do it.” He handed the money to the administrator. Said man’s eyes widened at the amount as he bowed deeply, head resting on the floor with the utmost respect. The day crawled over slowly, and you began to notice that the villain was not who he all seemed to be.

“T-Thank you!” The man sobbed, and Taishiro scratched his head.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll be here, next week. Take care, I guess.” He murmured. You were oddly quiet, observing his behavior and the places where he went to. Many surprised you, such as this one. He didn’t really care to look at the children, but his demeanor softened as he handed the main man in charge of the orphanage, money.

He confused you, that was for certain.

“You’re like a jaw-breaker.” You broke the silence as the sun was setting.

“Hah?” He turned to look at you, takoyaki sauce was scattered on his upper cheek. How cute, you thought, but then explained.

“Although you have a hard shell, you’re pretty sweet in all through the layers. Yet one wrong move, the candy can be lodged into somebody’s throat, choking them.”

He eyed you thoughtfully, chewing on the last bit of his supper.

“Yer really fuckin’ weirdly observant.”

“Thanks. Been dead for about a year.”

He hummed.

“A year, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Complete solitude and isolation?” He prodded.

“Well...there are other spirits, but they can’t talk. You don’t want to see them, for obvious reasons.” You pointed to your wound. His expression softened slightly, but you noticed it.

“Must’ve sucked. Seein’ others how they died n’ shit.” He said more to himself than to you as he looked down with an odd look to his face. Regret? Sorrow? You didn’t understand.

“You obviously put up a front, even sometimes your feelings are obvious, you deny them. Is it a pride thing?” You found yourself asking.

“Why is it of any of yer concern? Until you shoved yer nosy self in my home, nobody knew my identity, my business, or anything else!” He growled out. Use to his behavior you shrugged.

“Think of me as a diary that can’t ever be read. A secret keeper. Something to vent to. If by that twenty percent chance that I wake up, and if you feel threatened, you are more then welcomed to show up at my door. Not holding onto much hope of me staying alive, anyway.” You offered, and in return, you received one of those looks from him. The one that was calculating as he deciphered you thoroughly. He stared you down, taking in your lax expression with furrowed eyebrows.

“Twenty percent?”

“It’s what I overheard the doctor say. I haven’t really went back, y’know.” It was your turn to look serious as the images of your parents and other relatives had their own stricken faces of grief. A silence over took the two of you as he entered his house, locking the door as you fazed through it. He took out a lighter, opening a new pack of cigarettes thoughtfully.

“I am gonna kill you.” He said halfheartedly.

“I know.” You bluffed.

“Do you even fuckin’ care about yerself?” He stared at you.

“I did, once. You’ll only be granting me mercy, now.” You floated neatly on the kitchen chair that was behind the dining table, with him on the other side as he flicked the lighter, letting it burn at the end of the pack of full flavor smokes. He sucked on the stick, the embers at the end brightened as he inhaled the smoke, staring at you with a thoughtful expression as he exhaled it away from your form.

“Yer stuck with me, huh?”

“Till death do I part.” You quipped, but neither of you laughed. Silence followed after that.

“I made a promise that I would never kill again. Not what after happened to that fuckin’ kid.” He started. You said nothing as you listened in.

“I didn’t care what the people who I ran with, did. Murder wasn’t really my thing, but stealin’, violence, an’ destruction was. Was a brat straight from high school, ya know? Angry, hurt, an’ violent.”

“That’s not easy on anybody, especially one so young.” You murmured gently. He glanced at your more softer expression, drinking it in as he put the butt out. To your own surprise, he had decided to continue.

“Ma passed away, leaving a dead-beat ass dad. To this day, I still haven’t really talked to him. Fucker wanted me to start stealin’ to support his habits, an’ the older, violent kids got word that I was a prodigy. Ya can see where this is goin’, can’t ya?” He prompted, and you nodded. For the longest time, Fatgum, the notorious villain, was known to be within a gang of very violent and very deadly people. It was obvious that the large man didn’t really care for the murdering, but he wasn’t fully against it, either.  

“They disappeared.” You said, referring to the gang. He grimaced.

“Without a trace, huh? C’mon. I’m gonna take a nap, and then we’re gonna bust a few joints. Ya in?” He asked. Of course you weren’t going to pass that up. It was wrong, and villainous, but you remembered the smiling faces of the children at the orphanage.

“Yeah. I’m in.”

For the first time, you’ve met him, he let out a genuine smile, and your metaphorical breath was caught in your throat. No. You patronized your thoughts. You weren’t allowed to think of such things.

“Sour Patch Kids.” His voice broke through your inner dread. You stared up at him with confusion. He grinned, taking in your baffled look.

“First they’re sour, and then they’re sweet n’ chewy. Stubborn lil’ bastards get stuck between yer teeth, and ya can’t get rid of ‘em. That’s what you remind me of.”

You grinned.

 Maybe fate wasn’t so cruel to you, after all.

……………

Notes: I had to add candy metaphors I’m sorry. Less angsty than what I was planning, lol.          

#Fatgum #Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum x reader #Angst #Ghost reader #Darkness #Candy metaphors #cause why not #I had to be a little funny

[obxlife]

Hurting (John B x Reader)

A/N: Ayeee another John B fic! I feel like John B is the hardest character to write about for me and I just don’t know why lol. Also, this was requested by my friend Maggie @anonymous0writer so I hope I did a good job with this. Oh, and go check her out! She’s amazing and really talented!

Pairing: John B x Reader

Word Count: 1,765

Request: I gotta give you a John B. Maybe an angsty one where his girlfriend realizes he’s dead (maybe without Sarah? or Sarah goes with him bc of her dad?) that or one where JB gets hurt and you have to take care of him and get super worried? Thank you! ily

Summary: John B is dead. And now you’re mad at yourself because of it. 

Warnings: Super angsty and a lot of guilt and self-loathing from the reader. Mentions of virginity loss and death.

I know this is short but I really am bad at writing angst :(

HURTING

You thought you had known pain. You really did. All those times your parents would express how disappointed in you they were, or all those times where you had just fucked things up and felt guilty.

They didn’t compare to this. They really didn’t.

You couldn’t feel the cold, humid grass that surrounded your knees and legs, and you sure as hell couldn’t feel your burning tears. You could only feel pain, and your sobs and everything happening around you seemed to be muffled. Almost as if you were all alone.

You were certain that the rest of your friends were trying to comfort you. But you knew nothing would work. They were hurting almost as much as you, and none of you were in your right minds to even begin to comfort someone else. All they could do was share their pain as you shared yours.

JJ was the first to wrap his arms around you. This was mainly due to the fact that his father and your parents hadn’t shown up at the police tent. So while Pope and Kie hugged their parents and sobbed into their warm and comforting chests, you were stuck with the blond. Not that you really minded, as he was probably more warm and comforting than your parents could ever be. Besides, you were used to JJ’s presence, as you had been comforted by him before. 

Back then, your problems seemed to be the worst thing that had ever happened to you. The unreciprocated feelings you had for John B, JJ’s best friend, ripping you apart. All JJ could do was hug you and assure you that you would be fine. You would wrap your hands around the blond and tell him exactly how you felt and he would make sure you were okay again. And you were when John B finally got his head out of the gutter and realized he had feelings for you as well. 

Those problems and that pain were nothing compared to what you were feeling right now. They were stupid and silly and dumb and childish and nothing. Now you knew what true pain felt like. It was blinding in a way that made you not even realize what was going on. Your friends were now all around you, hugging you, but you couldn’t even feel them. It was enraging in a way that made you feel anger towards the people around you and those who were guilty. Deputy Shoupe. Ward Cameron. His son, Rafe. Everyone. Even JJ, Kiara, and Pope. 

The days before had been an absolute nightmare. John B had been blamed for a murder he didn’t even commit and he was on the run. And worst of all, he was on the run without you. And in your place was Sarah Cameron.

You wanted to hate her. You really, truly, deeply did. But you couldn’t. You knew the only reason she had followed after John B during his police chase was because she knew everything that had gone down at the runway. The only reason she had boarded onto the Phantom was because of her father. The only reason it hadn’t been you there with him was because he had begged you not to come with him.

The pain you felt was so enraging it made you hate yourself. Hate yourself for not getting on the Phantom and not following John B onto the runway and not going after him when he escaped from the car you were in with the rest of the Pogues. Your hate for yourself was actually guilt, just buried beneath the surface of what you portrayed to the outer world.

You didn’t realize how Kie and Pope had latched onto your arms and pulled you up while JJ kept himself behind you, preventing you from crumbling down again. Your tear-stained face was making everybody uncomfortable, never having seen you cry this way before, and your brusque movements were trying to push everyone away.

You didn’t have the strength for it anymore. You had kept everyone except John B at an arms-length during this whole treasure hunt, and now you just couldn’t take it. Your walls, much like yourself, tumbled to the ground and laid in ruins. 

Your friends moved you into a car that you recognized as Heyward’s old pickup truck. Your breath was shallow and coming out in rapid strokes, and JJ knew you were having a panic attack. He felt one rise in his own throat, but he pushed it down to help you. His strong arms wrapped around you, whispering into your ears about how to control your breathing and how to calm down.

His arms didn’t feel like home though. And they never would. Because they weren’t John B’s arms. They weren’t the arms of the boy you loved. Instead of smelling saltwater and orange-scented shampoo, you smelled freshly cut grass and a hint of weed. You tried to shake the blond boy off for a second time that night, but once again, your attempts were proved futile. You were completely drained of strength, of hope, of life.

You had managed to calm down when the car stopped, and Heyward opened the door for you and JJ to step out. You looked up at the old fishing shack. This place was a living memory of everything that happened. Everything you had gone through and everything you had ever said to each other was here, in the Chateau. The walls were filled with memories, the cracks between the tiles in the floor filled with laughter and cheap beer, and the leaky roof dripped happiness. Another sobbed raked your body as you tore your eyes away, not knowing if you would be physically able to enter the old house. 

JJ was speaking to Heyward, and after saying goodbye and wiping some tears away, JJ took you into his arms and led you inside. 

You both stood at the open doorway, tears streaming down your face as you saw all the good that was held inside the Chateau float out into the night air through the open door. Everything - the memories, the laughs, the cries, the good and the bad - passed right between you and JJ, and you tried to grasp onto it with all your might. However hard you tried, everything slipped through your fingers, and your shared look with JJ was enough to have the both of you breaking down.

Somehow you ended up in John B’s bed. One of his few shirts that wasn’t a Hawaiian button-up was adorning your body as you submerged yourself in the dirty sheets. When you inhaled you felt the salty smell with the hint of orange you wished you could be wrapped around permanently. Another sob broke out through your lips as you remembered everything that had happened on that very bed.

From sleepovers before you had developed feelings for each other to losing your virginity. From sharing your thoughts on growing old together to him tickling you until you would give in and kiss him. From your panic attacks to his. Everything in the room reminded you of your boyfriend. The one you loved with all of your being and soul. The one you would always think about before going to bed and right after waking up. The one that put you though hell sometimes but it was all worth it for. The one you would live and die for.

But how could you do all those things if he was gone? Gone and never return. You screwed your eyes shut, trying to push away these dark thoughts. You tried to remember all of the good things about him, about John B.

His hair reminded you of waterfalls because of how smoothly it was always in place. The color of his locks reminded you of the chocolate bars he would buy you every once in a while. The highlights between the brown tresses would remind you of the beach and surfing and having fun with the Pogues. His eyes were so green they brought life into the world, almost as if there was truly a whole forest contained inside of them. The shape of them, although not exactly symmetric, was entrancing, and pulled your thought towards what John B could possibly be hiding behind his orbs. His mouth was always chapped, and you almost laughed as you remembered how much you would insist on him wearing chapstick, but his kisses were so soft that you forgot about their dry state almost immediately. The curves of his lips reminded you of his smooth-talking, almost as if his words were born from the bends of their outlining. John B’s nose was straight and long, and you remembered how soft his skin would feel when you would trace your fingers down the bridge of it after spending nights together. His voice was silky and sweet, and the thought of it made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. His words were romantic and breezy, his leisurely pace when speaking reminding you of lazy days spent on the hammock together. His body was crafted by gods, and you remember every dip and ridge of his muscles and bone structure. His laugh reminded you of crashing waves on the shoreline and discovering new things to do together. The jovial sound brought back memories of cliff jumping with the Pogues, inside jokes, and late-night, stary-skied bonfires. And finally, you thought of him. John B as a whole. And you thought of how his soul reminded you of a new born’s first laugh or blowing out dandelions or skipping through meadows and fields or surfing your first wave. 

John B had been everything good in your life, and you couldn’t bear to even think he had been ripped away from you. 

Through the fine walls of the Chateau, you could listen to JJ’s sobs. The noise was loud compared to your cries, but you had your mouth pressed against your lips as you tried to ignore what had happened. You brought your hands up to your temples and almost ripped your hair out at the thought of not having John B by your side anymore. It broke your heart and your soul in a way that you knew you never be able to recover from. 

But that was okay. You didn’t want to recover. John B had been everything - and he would continue to be so. 

As you drifted off to sleep that night, you imagined he was still with you. At least when you lied to yourself you could smile.

#outer banks #obx #obx netflix #john b #john b routledge #john booker routledge #chase stokes

[scornedlove]

Chapter Twenty-Seven

CHRIS

A couple of weeks had gone by since I promised myself I’d give Tae some space. It was disappointing that she’d only hit me up once since then, especially after I revealed so much to her the last time she was here. I really opened up to her in hopes of gaining her trust, maybe that’s why I’ve been buggin. Without her conversation, it’s hard to keep my mind off of Robyn. The last time I saw Robyn, she not only looked like a stranger, but she treated me like one too. Between her and Tae, my heart was torn and it was all too much to deal with. 

Every time I felt myself getting in my feelings, I’d hit the studio, blast some music, and paint. It was like having a therapy session, which is how I was spending my Friday afternoon. I was in my zone, finishing up my third project this week when Taylor called, inviting me to go riding with him.

“Hell yeah! I had fun last time, but I wanna take it out where I can really put some gas to it.” I suggested, jumping at the chance to borrow his motorcycle again.

“Alright, I got you. I know just the place.” he promised, before we hung up. I finished the painting I was working on and stepped back to look at the finished product. 

Diamond always gave the cutest pouty face when I wasn’t moving fast enough for her. I couldn’t get it out of my head, so I put it in paint. I snapped a picture of it and sent it to Tae before leaving, hoping that would put me on her mind.

“This chick wants me to meet her at the A for some drinks” Taylor announced when I got to his place.

“When ya’ll planning on doing that?”

“Right now, I told her 8. ″

“Then why you ask me to ride with you?” I asked, noticing it was fifteen til. “I’m not trying to be the third wheel”

“You won’t be. She’s bringing her roommate, so I told her I’d bring my brother” he added, with a smirk.

“I’m not going on a double date with you man, you know I got a girl.”

“It ain’t a date, unless you want it to be. I know that long distance shit ain’t gonna last too long.”

“Shut up fool. As long as you don’t get me in no shit, it’ll last as long as I want it to.”

“We’re just gonna hang for a bit, then take em on a ride. The ladies love that shit and I’m tryna get some ass tonight.”

“Well I’m not-”

“-Stop being a tight fuck. It ain’t all about them, come chill with ya bro.”

“Alright man, but don’t be mad if they both feeling me and you end up coming home empty handed” I teased as he tossed me the keys to his Harley.

We arrived twenty minutes later than expected due to traffic, but the girls still hadn’t made it. We found a spot at the bar, ordered a couple of beers, and watched the Saints play the Falcons while we waited.

“It’s looking like you got stood up lil bro” I stated when I noticed it was nine and still no sign of the chick he described.

“There she goes” he nodded towards the door when a familiar, dark skinned woman walked in. “She bad ain’t she?”

“Oh, hell naw. I heard this bitch was fuckin with Anthony a couple of weeks ago. You need to be caref-”

“Fuck Anthony. That’s yo homeboy. Besides, I’m always careful.” he stated, gulping down the rest of his beer before standing to greet Kiki.

“Small world. I would’ve never guessed y'all were brothers. Ryan gonna be shocked as fuck.” she cackled, getting comfortable next to Taylor as Ryan walked in. She was on the phone, eyes fixated on Kiki as she strutted past a couple of guys checking her out. She didn’t even notice me until she ended her call, a couple feet in front of me.

“Hey” she smiled, surprised to see me. “When Kiki told me she set me up on a blind date I was nervous as hell”

“Oh, this ain’t that.” I explained, tossing back the rest of my beer. She rolled her eyes at my bluntness and sat on the stool in between me and Kiki.

“Obviously, you shut that shit down already. I’m just glad you’re not some fucking weirdo.” she admitted and I couldn’t help but burst out in laughter.

“I see ya’ll are on good terms again” I nodded towards Kiki, who was cheesing like a schoolgirl while Taylor whispered in her ear. “I’m glad I didn’t get involved in that”

“Yeah, it didn’t take long for Anthony to hop on the next bitch” she shrugged nonchalantly. “How do you even know him? He doesn’t seem like someone you would associate with.”

“Shit, we go way back.  He’s changed for the worse, that’s for damn sure. ”

“Well, at least one good thing came from him”

“What’s that?”

“He’s got some good connects. He introduced me to a DJ who’s been working with me on a couple of songs, even helped me land a couple of gigs when we were on good terms.”

“Good. Sounds like things are looking up for you.”

“You have no idea. I’ve been crazy busy. Matter of fact, I’m performing for this charity event in a few weeks, you should come.”

“Oh yeah? Send me the info. This is a crazy time for me too, but I should be able to work it in”

“Alright, but let me know either way. Don’t just leave me hanging.” she replied, before getting the bartender’s attention. They ordered margaritas and we settled on one more beer while we watched a little more of the football game. I wasn’t interested in the game, or getting drunk. I was ready for the adrenaline rush from flying through traffic, so after the ladies finished their drinks, we hit the road.

It didn’t take long for me to regret agreeing to do this with the girls. I’ve been abstinent for a solid five months now, and I haven’t seen Tae in over a month. Having Ryan’s double D’s on my back and arms wrapped around my waist had my man standing tall. I did my best to keep it to myself, but she got a couple of feels in. 

Nevertheless, we rode across the Pacific Coast Highway to the infamous Neptune’s net, where we hung out for a little while, had dinner, and smoked a blunt by the beach, before heading back to the city. That’s when I realized those couple of feels weren’t an accident, they were intentional. I don’t know if it was because she was tipsy, but Ryan couldn’t keep her hands to herself. I was cool about it the first time, but then she slipped her hands in my pants while I was driving, and I damn near wrecked trying to pull over.

"If you want to make it home without having to find another way, you gonna have to keep your hands above my waist” 

“Were you feeling violated? Because it looks like you were enjoying it.”

“Fuck that. I’m tryna keep shit platonic between us, but if you can’t handle that we can’t do this anymore. I’ll find you a ride, but I’m not doing this with you”

“Fine. I’ll stop.” she stated, throwing her hands up in defeat. She behaved the rest of the ride, but when we made it to her place, she invited me in and was offended when I quickly declined.

“Well, you know where I am if you wanna talk or whatever” she stated before sashaying towards her front door. The deep ass swing in her hips made it evident she wanted more than a conversation.

I waited as she dug in her purse, searching for her keys until she gave up and made a call. By the look on her face as she walked towards me, I knew bad news was coming. 

“Kiki has my house key and she’s not answering. Is it cool if I stay at your place tonight?”

“You gotta be kidding” I sighed in disbelief. “Ya’ll set this shit up huh?”

“Really? Don’t flatter yourself. A simple yea or no will do” she sassed, almost tripping over her own foot. 

“What other choice do we have? Let’s go” I shrugged, handing her the helmet back. She was fucked up and I didn’t want to be here all night waiting for a damn key, so I decided we’d deal with it tomorrow. 

ROBYN

“I can’t believe I’m doing this”

“It looks great and it’s almost done, no need to fuss now” I reassured Mel as I wrapped my arms around her for comfort.

Today I finally went through with covering the matching tattoo Chris and I’d gotten a couple of years ago on some drunk on love shit. Halfway through, I almost chickened out, so Mel made me a deal. She said she was done with tattoos before, but if I went through with this one, she’d get one of my choice blindfolded. So here we were, both with swollen hands, only mine was three times the size of hers.

“Alright, ya’ll know the drill. Keep it clean and dry.” BB, my tattoo artist, stated once he finished her design. “and you really need to baby yours Robyn, here’s some extra ointment. It should help with the pain too.”

“Awww shit! This is dope!” Mel grinned after uncovering her eyes. Capturing moments was inked flawlessly in script on the side of her left hand.The moment we were settled in the back seat of John’s ride, she snapped a pic and sent it to J.  

“I’m obsessed! Girl, fucking with you, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it’s perfect. You did good”

“Give jack he jacket!  You know I don’t do you dirty!” I teased, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Yeah, but you been wilding ever since that shit with Chris and Dre.”

“Bitch, you not even supposed to be saying the C word” I snapped, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Speaking of Chr- I mean C. Has he reached out to you since?” she continued, ignoring my annoyance.

“No. I guess I scared the shit outta him when I mentioned the police, but Aundre’s ass won’t stop calling”

“So you’re not talking to him either?”

“Nope. I’m taking your advice and leaving both of they asses alone.“

“We’ll see how long that lasts” she snickered, rolling her eyes, as if she knew I was to weak to go through with it. I hated when she did that.

“Don’t do that.’

"What”

“Don’t play dumb. I’m sick of that shit.”

“Chill out, it ain’t that serious”

“I am serious Mel. Don’t shoot me down like that. Not everybody got they life figured out by 24.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She quizzed, shaking her head. “I’m still figuring this shit out too. Everything ain’t smooth sailing over here either.”

“I find that hard to believe.” I scoffed, crossing my arms and wincing from the pain of brushing my freshly tatted hand against my clothes.

“I don’t complain all the time and I don’t wear that shit on my sleeve, but yeah Rob, I be going through some shit too.”

“Like?”

“Like my husband working seventy hour weeks and my married boss flirting and making passes at me all the fucking time”

“Michael?”

“Yeah, anytime we’re alone together he gets a little too close and happens to accidentally brush up against me the wrong way or says something sexually cryptic ”

“You lying! He’s fine as hell, but don’t fuck around with a married man. Matter of fact, you should just leave that job. These things always end up ugly”

“I’m not stupid, but I’m not leaving my job either.”

“Why not?”

“The amount of money I’m making with him is crazy, I ain’t gonna get that anywhere else.”

“Girl please, you have J. Who cares about the money? It ain’t worth the money, you need to quit”

“Easy for you to say. I’'m finally making good money and I’m not ready to let it go. Over a couple of ass grabs? Naw, imma milk this cow. Maybe I’ll be able to open my own shit one day.”

“Well all I gotta say is don’t slip up and lose ya husband over nothing stupid.”

“I would never jeopardize my marriage. J has made me a better person in so many ways, I’d be stupid to fuck up something this good. ”

“Fi true” I agreed, before John Legend’s All of Me started blaring from her phone.

“This my baby calling now” she gasped, a smile creeping across her face as she answered in her sexy voice. I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous as they flirted back and forth. I had to turn my attention to the starry sky in order to successfully tune her out. Instead of obsessing over my own sad love life, I  looked for constellations while reminding myself of all the frogs she had to kiss in order to find her prince. 

CHRIS

“CHRIS WHAT THE FUCK!” Tae’s unmistakable voice pierced my ears, snatching me from dreamland. It took a minute for it to register that she was standing right in front of me. Then I realized why she was screaming.

“Get up Ry-” I attempted to wake Ryan’s drunk ass up, but she was out cold. We passed out sitting up on the sofa watching Rush Hour, I don’t know how her head ended up on my lap. It may have looked a little bad, but Tae was definitely exaggerating.

“SO THIS IS WHAT YOU REALLY DO WHEN YOUR BY YOURSELF! I KNEW  IT. YOU’RE A LIAR! ”

“BABE!” I yelled over her to get her attention. “You buggin. We’re fully clothed. Nothing happened.”

“And that makes this okay? Your fucking ex is laying in your lap!” Lose my number!” she screamed throwing my key at me and running out the house.

My mind was yelling for me to run after her, but my legs wouldn’t move. Is that really all it took for her to walk out on me again? If so, what is the point of this long distance shit? What was she even doing in Cali? I haven’t talked to her in days and she just randomly shows up to act like this. I had so many questions, but at the same time, I didn’t care for a single answer. I felt a weight lift from my shoulders as I realized something. I’m single again. 

#rihanna #chris brown #ff #fanfiction #fanfic

[365days365movies]

January 6, 2021: Last Action Hero (Part 2)

SPOILERS! And check out Part 1 beforehand! Anyway, let’s go! Got a lot to cover, TRUST me.

So, this movie is incredibly cluttered. Anyway, Slater makes his way to the Fart Bomb, and Practice (makes perfect) is a dirty cop working for Vivaldi. Danny and Slater get chained to a pipe, and I’m still surprised we haven’t even slightly revisited the time Danny got taken hostage about, what, an hour ago? Whiskers the Cat Cop arrives and shoots Salieri, and I weep for the part of my sanity that just died typing that sentence.

I want you to know, I mad that GIF. I had to type “furball problem.” I’m losing it, you guys...and I think I’m enjoying it.

Together, Slater and Danny steal the body of Leo the Fart (HUP, there goes a little more sanity), everybody at the funeral has a gun (including one old woman with a straight-up grenade launcher), and so, SO much property is abused and damaged. In other words, it’s a pretty fun action sequence. Leo drops into a conveniently placed tar pit alongside Jack Slater, and Danny briefly becomes a domestic terrorist by shooting a gun in a public area, WOW, the ‘90s was a different time!

So, it’s at this point that I start getting annoyed by Danny always being meta. I realize that I've been praising it for this, but...yeah, no, it’s starting to get annoying now. Especially considering that we’ve got an hour left in the movie. But, on the bright side, it’s also at this point that Benedict becomes my favorite character. This gorgeous motherfucker kills Vivaldi (whose plan was completely nonsensical, by the way), and then turns to the screen. Charles Dance effortlessly channels the spirit of Shakespeare’s Richard III, Duke of Gloucester, as says this to the audience:

If that little turd, Daniel Madigan, can move through parallel worlds, I can move through parallel worlds. In and out! In, steal whatever I want, and out again! Impossible to catch!

I can add colors to the chameleon, change shapes with Proteus for advantages, AND SET THE MURDEROUS MACHIAVEL TO...Anyway...  

Charles Dance is giving his absolute best energies to this role. And this might be a silly movie, but godDAMN is Benedict a great villain for it. It’s immediately followed by the surreal image of a monster truck crashing through the wall of this mansion, and the fight leads to Benedict, Professor Toru Tanaka, Danny, and Jack Slater falling through a portal created by the ticket, and ending up in the real world.

We put Jack’s action-movie world in contrast with the real world, first with little things, and then with a legitimately vicious-looking car accident. Like, wow, it’s a VERY realistic-looking accident. I’d show a GIF of it, but...wow, it’s extremely affecting. Toru dies, and there’s, uh...there’s blood. Man. It’s rough, honestly.

Speaking of affecting, Jack is beginning to understand the true nature of his reality. And Schwarenegger does an OK job pulling that pain off...but like everybody in this movie, his emotions are way calmer than mine would be if I were in his shoes. But there is one character I can identify with: Nick, the theater owner. When he finds out that the ticket works, he starts to talk about the movies he could now visit, the people he could meet. OK, most of them are beautiful female starlets, but still! I get it! Do you know how much I would love to meet Stan Lee? SERIOUSLY? It’d be amazing.

I can also identify with Danny’s mother, who is rightfully PISSED. Seriously, this kid just got assaulted by a robber, brought to the police, and went directly TO THE MOVIE THEATER. GROUND THIS CHILD. GROUND HIM SO GODDAMN HARD.

And then, Benedict experiences the darkest part of the real world, and Dance again shows his talent. He begins by showing surprise and mild horror at the depravity of an early 1990s New York City (a little more dramatically bad than it was in real life at this point, but still), then sees a man assaulted (and possibly killed) for his shoes. He remarks at this in horror...then realizes that the police don’t come as quickly as they do in his film universe. He experiments by killing a man in cold blood, in public, and no one stops him. 

Upon realizing his potential freedom in this world...he makes a plan. He uses the ticket, and brings back...the Ripper. ANY OTHER MOVIE VILLAIN? Dracula? Freddy Kreuger? Jason? Like...nobody? That is...such a missed opportunity, goddamn.  Anyway, their plan is to kill Arnold Schwarzenegger. As in the REAL Arnold Schwarzenegger, who actually appears upon his real-life wife at the time Maria goddamn Shriver! Which...yeah, that’s cool, but...the amount of celebrity cameos in this scene is, frankly, INSANE. 

Here’s a list: Little Richard, Jim Belushi, Damon Wayans, Chevy Chase, JEAN-CLAUDE VAN DAMME, MC Hammer. And that’s not counting Tina Turner (the mayor earlier), Sharon Stone, Robert Patrick, Joan Plowright, and...well, I’ll save the best for last.

I haven’t even mentioned the development of Slater’s as a three-dimensional character in multiple different ways; the Ripper showing up at the movie premiere alongside the movie actor, Tom Noonan; the Ripper KILLING NOONAN’S REAL WORLD AGENT...

This movie is insane. So much to cover, and yet it’s SUCH A LONG GODDAMN MOVIE. This movie is 2 hours and 11 minutes long! SERIOUSLY! I am tired, I gots to go to BEEEEED. Let’s get this climax over with, shall we? Arnold Schwarzenegger meets Jack Slater in some REALLY seamless effect work (this movie has actually aged SO well, damn), the Ripper kidnaps Danny and brings him to the roof of the theater, in a bid to reenact their old battle. Some meta dialogue takes place from the Ripper, and he THROWS DANNY OFF THE ROOF. Noonan’s also actually pretty good at playing this unhinged, Joker-esque maniac, by the way.

Jack kills the Ripper (again), and Danny’s saved from falling by Jack, just in time for Benedict to show up and make my day once more. He expounds the true potential of the ticket and film villains (frustrating me even more), while also chewing the scenery splendidly. He points out that any movie villain would love the real world, noting that in this world, the bad guys win. He shoots Jack Slater, and as he’s about to win, Slater shoots him in the eye, resulting in this shot.

Nice. 

But he drops the ticket, which lands near a theater showing the classic Ingmar Bergman film, The Seventh Seal, a movie which is on my list for Drama December. Or maybe Experimental June, I haven’t decided yet. Anyway, the ticket activates in front of that theater and...that’s Ian fucking McKellen.

THAT IS IAN. FUCKING. MCKELLEN. PLAYING INGMAR BERGMAN’S DEATH. WHAT. HOLY SHIT. And that happens just as Slater is literally about to die in the ambulance, and Danny summons his domestic terrorist impulses again, whipping out a gun and hijacking the ambulance to get Jack back to the theater. Meanwhile, Ian McKellen just KILLS a dude on the street, because this movie is secretly AMAZING. DeathKellen follows the ambulance to Nick’s movie theater as Jack is dying. Leading to one of the most surreal things I’ve ever seen.

McKellen fucking TAKES this movie as an omnipotent death, and is essentially Death ex Machina. My God. This movie is the silliest, craziest, wackiest, most nonsensical, crazy movie that I’ve seen...and goddamn does it have some amazingly great moments. To the extent that I only just realized that the fucking cartoon cat is voiced by DANNY FUCKING DEVITO. WHAT. THE FUCK.

And all of this is also running over the almost completely ignored fact that Danny is still greatly saddened about the death of his father. And this film completely passes that fact over. Like I said, there’s so much extra folderol in the film, and it really did have the chance to be this emotional, existential epic. But sadly...it’s kind of all over the place.

Anyway, Jack’s back in the movie, where his wounds heal, and he now has a new understanding of his own fictional existence. He officially becomes the meta. And also ruins the Jack Slater franchise forever. Yeah, uh...the franchise has literally become self aware. And that’s not gonna be a good thing for the movie.

And that’s Last Action Hero! Epilogue coming in a few hours, so stay tuned for that. And I gotta tell you...I have some words to say about this movie. Some great, and some...stay tuned.

#last action hero #jack slater #austin o'brien #danny madigan #charles dance #benedict #robert prosky #tom noonan #f murray abraham #frank mcrae #anthony quinn #bridgette wilson #art carney #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #movie challenge #action movies #action genre #mtgifs #my gifs #cassterly #videogamestairs #userel #userrobin #arnold schwarzenegger #user365 #action january

[mychemicalficrecs]

could i get a rec list of long (30k+) frank-centric any pairing fics? (preferably not in first person, and if there's smut with bottom frank)…weirdly specific but at least i know what i like?

Being specific is totally fine! Depending on what it is you’re looking for, it can even be super helpful :) I originally thought this would be difficult, but it turns out I already had all of these in my bookmarks. It didn’t specifically check for bottom!Frank though (sorry).

Frank-centric Longfic

Gerard Way's (Vampire) Detective Agency by jjtaylor, Pennyplainknits, mainly Frank/Gerard, 164k, Mature. Pete, in Decaydance Mansion, with a yarrow stake. Frank and Gerard, in the greenhouse, with a plant of questionable origin. Bob, everywhere you look, with a gang of assassins for justice. Vampires, valets, pamphlets, haunted furniture, dub-thrall, disembodied voices, zombie couriers, and sinister rituals.

Nightswimming by waxjism, Frank/Gerard, 141k, Not Rated. My Teenage Romance

Unholyverse by Bexless, Frank/Gerard, Ray/Mikey, 187k, Mature, Explicit. Religion! Horror! Exorcisms! Piercings! And Gerard is a priest.

Illyria (King and Country) by tabulaxrasa, Frank/Gerard, 57k, Explicit. Today, they'd woken up and Gerard was King of Illyria. Frank hasn't really been a stable boy since he ended up in the archduke's bed, but now Gerard's exile is over and he's king. Frank has to survive court, politics, and scheming nobles to figure out exactly what he is now.

Stunning Someone by morbid_beauty, Frank/Gerard, 82k, Explicit. Frankie, a tattoo artist living in Brooklyn, has basically everything ze wants...except, like, someone to cuddle with at night. As lame as that sounds. Gerard, an art student living in Manhattan, meets someone of questionable gender and starts a friendship with an unrequited crush. (Or: the one where Frankie is genderfluid, Gerard is kind of ignorant to much of the queer community, and sometimes you just fall for a stunning someone.)

Envision the Magic by innocent_wolves, Frank/Gerard, 69k, Teen And Up Audiences. Gerard is a talented magician, responsible for much of the success of the famous Envision Destiny cruise ship. He's also one of those people. You know, one of those people who just seem to take up all the space they come across with their arrogance and confidence. You wouldn't wanna touch their personality with a 10-foot pole, but still people admire them. That is beyond Frank. Working behind the cruise ship bars and seeing Gerard pretty much every day, he can't understand what's so great about him. Besides, everybody else doesn't have to deal with his snide remarks and rude comments. Because if there's one thing Gerard seems to love, it's the act of constantly pestering Frank.

Truths That He Learned by gala_apples, Frank/Mikey, Patrick/Mikey/Pete, Ashlee/Patrick/Pete, 37k, Explicit. It's Frank's senior year, and it seems like he's constantly having new experiences, at least half of which come as a complete surprise to him. He falls in love, comes out, and has sex, not necessarily in that order.

Fit to be tied by maryangel, Frank/Gerard, 56k, Explicit. Frank is a bartender. Gerard is an alcoholic. They were clearly made for each other. Also, Frank is a werewolf.

Only Going One Way by ataratah, jjtaylor, Frank/Gerard, 73k, Mature. Crossover with due South. Constable Gerard Way of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and Detective Frank Iero of the Chicago PD team up find Mikey Way in a city where bowling alley score cards hide secret codes, where the good guys are either lying or undercover (and sometimes lying about being undercover), and where criminal bakers make drug-laced frosting.

James Cameron Got It Wrong by ladyfoxxx, Frank/Fun Ghoul/Party Poison, 57k, Explicit. In which 2005!Frank and Fun Ghoul get it on. Then Frank accidentally winds up in 2019.

Rock and Roll Never Looked so Beautiful by corruptedkid, Frank/Gerard, 58k, Explicit. Gerard Way is a rising solo artist, set to become the next big thing in the alternative scene. Frank Iero is a trashy punk with a reputation of his own as the frontman of Pencey Prep. When their paths cross, a love story is born, only to come crashing down when Gerard hits it big. As Gerard ascends to the A-list, Frank adjusts to life on his own. He almost manages it - until two years later, when fate puts him face to face with Gerard once more. Everything has changed, but the connection between them is still there. Their story has ended once before, but if they're lucky, they just might make a new one.

I never told you what I do for a living. by not0-fuckin-kay, Frank/Gerard, 60k+, PG-13 to NC-17. Frank Iero, male nurse at Pete Wentz's private hospital and possibly more to one new patient he can't keep his eyes off of. When a new pateint is brought in with amnesia, just days before Christmas, and with nothing but the clothes on his back and a strange drawing, it's left to Frank to find out who he is and what happened to him. When he does, it changes Frank's life forever, as he's thrust into love and health scares he never thought would complicate his life. This is the story of how he tries to make it through, juggling his job and his love-life and just trying to make things better. With Patrick the doctor, Bob the ward supervisor, Travis the unlikely therapist, and Mikey, the sometimes wannabe homicidal geek.

and me here on the ground by ohnoktcsk, Frank/Gerard, 32k, Explicit. Frank's worked hard to build a life for himself in the city of Jersey, where dragons swoop and dive over the river, and every day is divided by the ringing of the city bells. He knows the streets of the city like he knows the the tattoos on the backs of his hands, and he's content with what he has: a job as a bike courier, friends who love to give him shit, and a crush on a professor of art history at the local university. But he's also got a secret—one he's been running from for a long time. But all it takes is one delivery to a mysterious, quite-probably-magical bookshop to show Frank that there are some things you can’t outrun. Especially since he’s finally found a place that he doesn’t want to leave.

Companion by onceuponamoon, Frank/Gerard, 34k, Explicit. A workplace AU. There’s a dude sitting in one of the high-backed chairs opposite the reception desk. Mostly obscured by a fake ficus plant between them, the guy probably wouldn’t have been noticeable save for the lazy sprawl of his legs, the Chucks contrasting against the floral rug.

Your Heart The Only Place That I Call Home by dear_monday, Frank/Gerard, 30k, Explicit. When Frank and his crew of morally ambiguous ethernauts (pirates, as Imperial law would have it, but that's such an ugly word) fetch up on the doorstep of the fabled Sanctuary, they aren't expecting to find much - least of all a long-lost brother, a garden in a box and the key to an ancient riddle.

Give Me a Reason by mistresscurvy, Lindsey/Frank/Jamia/Gerard and most variants thereof, 38k, Explicit. July 2007. Frank is fucking stoked for the next tour. This one will be the best ever, because his wife's gonna be with him the entire time. They've been married for less than six months, and he still can't fucking believe he got to marry her. This summer is going to rock. But life never happens as he plans.

In Repair by autoschediastic, Frank/Gerard, 33k, Explicit. "Shit," Frank mutters, and shoves both hands through his hair. He looks around the kitchen like he's gonna find what he should do scratched into the old linoleum, then looks back at the bot. He gnaws on his lip. Fuck it. He already knows what he's gonna do. He's just gotta do it. Getting down on his knees, he braces a hand on the edge of the crate and leans over the bot. It's dressed in a plain white tee and matching drawstring pants like an escaped mental patient. Frank rolls his neck and cracks his knuckles, shaking the ache out of them before carefully laying his palm against its cheek. He's pretty sure his voice is steady when he says, "Activate." Nothing happens. Fucking shitty packaging-- the thing's busted. But Frank keeps his hand where it is, jumping a little when he feels the surge of energy beneath it. The robot's skin goes from room temperature to lukewarm, then warm. Frank watches it open its eyes, the light behind them adjusting until they're a pale sort of brown. It looks at him and asks, "Am I dead?"

Promises, Promises by silentdescant, Frank/Gerard, 31k, Explicit. "Sources on our investigative team say this was a bank robbery gone wrong, and that, when faced with a police task force surrounding the building, the suspect grabbed the nearest person and is now holding that young man at gunpoint as he makes his getaway."

Cover To Cover by silentdescant, Frank/Gerard, 32k, Explicit. You've Got Mail AU. Frank owns The Shop Around The Corner, which specializes in classic and rare books, and Gerard is opening up a large branch of Way Books & Café down the street. They meet online and fall in love.

Love: The Package Deal by jjtaylor, Frank/Gerard, Lindsey/Frank/Jamia/Gerard, 30k, Mature. Gerard gets a special kind of amnesia. Frank gets to reexamine his idea of acceptable relationship structures. Lots of people fail to communicate effectively, but they all sure remember how to kiss.

Let The Darkness Lead You Home by rivers_bend, Frank/Gerard, 49k, Explicit. Vampires are in charge and most of the humans on earth are prey, so Frank Iero's parents have him train as a cyber tech to protect him. Leaving the family he's born into may have saved his life, but his parents never could have expected the lengths he'd go to in order to find a new family to call home.

Gross roomies by turps, Frank/Mikey, 36k, Explicit. Frank loves living with Mikey. Sure, the apartment is a mess, the kitchen's a toxic wasteland, and there's something growing in the refrigerator that's just a day or two away from becoming sentient, but other than those minor inconveniences, it's all cool. Or it is until Mikey decides to embark on a journey of sexual discovery and adventure and Frank's left at home with nothing but the fridge monster for company. To make matters worse, Mikey insists on telling Frank everything he does with his new kinky friends, right down to the tiniest detail. And now suddenly Frank is best friends with his right hand and he can't stop thinking about Mikey in ways he never has before. The really big problem, other than suddenly being in lust with his best friend, is that Frank isn't sure why.

Of All The Hidden Corners by moneyes, Frank/Gerard, ~44k, PG-13. An epic, adventurous tale filled with alternate universes, lords, mischief, magical powers, snark, boyfriends, and luck of the bad kind.

Church of Hot Addiction by spleenjournal, 0nlymemories, Frank/Gerard, Frank/Mikey, 36k, Adult. When Gerard Way gets transferred to Our Lady of Peace in Arlington a few weeks into his Senior year, he thinks it's his chance to be cool. Too bad his idea of "cool" is no cooler than it was in 3rd grade, even if there aren't any green tights.

Paradox 'verse by stoplightglow, Frank/Gerard, 42k, Mature. You know the saying. The best part about hitting rock bottom is that you get to meet a hot psychic.

#frank/gerard #ray/mikey #frank/mikey #lindsey/frank/jamia/gerard #fic rec list #longfic

[resurrectionrpg]

Good evening, villains and victims! We’d like to kick the weekend and the opening of the roleplay off by getting to know your characters with an honesty weekend! You do not have to participate, but we would love to meet your characters, and for you to take the chance to have a little inbox fun. Please ensure your inboxes are open and your blog is not dash only.

This will go from now until Sunday at 12AM EST. If you’d like to post intros now, please do so! Otherwise we expect intros by Monday. 

We have some memes and starters under the cut, but please feel free to reblog whatever you’d like!

                                 DIALOGUE/SENTENCES

VICTIM → VICTIM

❝ I dreamed about this guy [ player insert ]. ❞

❝ What’d he look like? You get a look at him? ❞

❝ Well then how can you say somebody else was there? ❞

❝ You could just see the cuts happening, all at once. ❞

❝ What do you mean all at once? ❞

❝ I probably could’ve saved her if I’d moved sooner. ❞

❝ There was this guy who had knives for fingers. ❞

❝ You’ll feel better as soon as you sleep. ❞

❝ You better tell me, cause now he’s after me! ❞

❝ Feel better?! You call this feeling better? ❞

❝ Avoid everything happening to me by just getting good and loaded. ❞

❝ He can’t get you because mommy killed him. ❞

❝ I take back every bit of energy I ever gave you. ❞

❝ Do you have any idea what that means? ❞

❝ She’s already fucked up, so leave her alone. ❞

❝ What? What are you talking about? ❞

❝ Just don’t fall asleep. If you die in your dreams, you die for real. ❞

❝ You think you can bring the dead back to life? ❞

❝ He brought us here so we could remember what he did to us. ❞

❝ I want you to go straight up to bed, okay? ❞❝ He’s not after us because we lied - He’s after us because we told the truth. ❞

❝  You know what they say, kemosabe, in Hell, everybody loves popcorn.   ❞

❝ We’re gonna be in here a long time. ❞

❝ There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about that night. ❞

❝ Where did you hear that? ❞

❝ So what did you do? Did you call the police? ❞

❝   I’m gonna teach you something. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you.   ❞

❝   You know, all in all, you’ve had a pretty good run.  ❞

❝   You must’ve known it all had to end somewhere - might as well be now.  ❞

❝ Next time, we go someplace else. ❞

❝   This is crazy, sitting here and waiting to be attacked.  ❞

❝  I told you already, I don’t why they let me go! They just did.  ❞

❝  Sometimes I can still see their face whenever I close my eyes.  ❞

❝ Grab anything that might make a good weapon. ❞

❝ Somebody should make a run for the car. ❞

❝ No, no, no! We can’t go out there! ❞

❝ Come on, it’s the only way. ❞

❝ Whoever’s the fastest runner, who is that? ❞

VILLAIN → VICTIM

❝ We weren’t hunting, we were protecting you! ❞

❝ You’ll understand how it feels to never fail to protect them. ❞

❝  You know what they say, kemosabe, in Hell, everybody loves popcorn.   ❞

❝  Oh, don’t you cry! I’ve killed a million times before.  ❞

❝ Did you know…that after the heart stops beating, the brain keeps functioning for over 7 minutes? ❞

❝   I ain’t no fucking clown.   ❞

❝ Ooh, sounds fun, but it’s a little fast for me. ❞

❝ I’m your boyfriend now, ______. ❞

❝ It hurts, doesn’t it? That’s because you’re in my world now, bitch! ❞

❝ I had to keep you awake long enough so when you finally slept, you’d never wake up again. ❞

❝ We’re gonna be in here a long time. ❞

❝   I’m gonna teach you something. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you.   ❞

❝   Do you really think I give a fuck?  ❞

❝  what’s the pointing in kidnapping if you aren’t going to do any killing?  ❞

❝  i usually like to get to know my victims a little before i kill them.  ❞

❝   I’m not crazy; I’m in control!  ❞

❝   I’m not here to brighten your dismal day; I am here to end your miserable life.  ❞

❝  You may think this is a one time thing but I promise, I will kill again.  ❞

❝  Come out, come out, wherever you are! You can’t hide from me forever!  ❞

❝  there’s no turning back now! there’s no one coming for you, except for me!  ❞

❝   You know, all in all, you’ve had a pretty good run.  ❞

❝   You must’ve known it all had to end somewhere - might as well be now.  ❞

❝   You can all count yourselves lucky you got fucked by the best!  ❞

❝   In exactly one hundred and twenty seconds, we shall begin.  ❞

❝   All you have to do is survive twelve hours.  ❞

❝   What I do? Unfortunately for you, I do real well!  ❞

❝   I am certainly not here to elicit an amused response.  ❞

❝   Murder school is now in session.  ❞

❝  you know what they say, once a killer, always a killer.  ❞

❝   I am here to end your miserable fucking life.  ❞

❝   I’m sending you straight to the fucking pearly gates with a first class ticket.  ❞

❝   I came to get down and dirty. Oh yeah.  ❞

❝   Look what the fucking cat dragged in!  ❞

❝   Death has come to sing it’s quite song, run and hide for it won’t belong!  ❞

❝   Is it hunting time now?  ❞

❝   I guess I should really put you out of your misery.  ❞

❝  You can run but you can’t hide! I’m going to find you and kill you!  ❞

❝  See, I’ve stalked you for sometime before finally snatching you up!  ❞

❝  I didn’t want to kill you when I brought you here, but now, I have no choice!  ❞

❝ I’m gonna kill your whole fucking family.  ❞

❝ I want you to see what happens to heroes…  ❞

GENERAL

❝ I didn’t want you to remember! I wanted you to forget! ❞

❝ I didn’t want to remember! I wanted to forget! ❞

❝ They’re…they’re repressed memories, from a terrible, terrible time. ❞

❝ There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about that night. ❞

❝ You said that… You said that we didn’t know each other. ❞

❝ Don’t pretend you don’t know, because you do. ❞

❝ Your mind was just playing tricks on you. ❞

❝ He kept repeating it over and over again.. ❞

❝   I’m gonna teach you something. I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you.   ❞

❝   There’s only four things you need to know about this career.   ❞

❝   Do you really think I give a fuck?  ❞

❝   I always thought I’d appear rather pretentious with a pipe.  ❞

❝   You know, all in all, you’ve had a pretty good run.  ❞

❝   You diggin’ what you see, pops?  ❞

❝   I mean no disrespect, but was not the question.  ❞

❝   See you later, Popeye! I’m gonna go get me some spinach.  ❞

❝   I don’t wanna be here! They make me be here!  ❞

❝   You and me, we’re the same! We’re the same!  ❞

❝    What the fuck is going on? Do you see anything?  ❞

❝   Look what the fucking cat dragged in!  ❞

❝   I’m so flattered you remember me.  ❞

❝   Don’t worry, ______.  It’s always somebody’s fault.  ❞

❝  Do you think that this killer is working all alone?  ❞

❝  How hard is it to catch a killer? ❞ ❝  I don’t want you out at night in this town, roaming around.  ❞

❝  I can’t believe they’re withholding information about that murder.  ❞

❝  Wait, you mean you don’t know? Do you live under a rock?  ❞

❝  I can’t believe I’m still living in this fucking town.  ❞

❝  Why are you so paranoid and scared all of a sudden? It’s just the police.  ❞

❝  Ever since this recent murder, you’ve been super paranoid.  ❞

❝  Please, hurry back!! I’m afraid I might not ever seen you again when you leave.  ❞

❝ Man she really fucked him up good huh? ❞

❝ I knew you were into some sketchy shit! ❞

❝ This wasn’t a random attack! Our family’s being targeted. ❞

❝ Why would anybody do this? ❞

❝ Oh my god, what is happening to us? ❞

❝ I don’t see anyone. Do you see anyone? ❞

❝ Why are you calling me a low life? I’m just trying to help the situation. ❞

❝ What you just said. What was that? ❞

❝ Is there something else you wanted to say to me? ❞

❝ I can’t believe you’re in on this. ❞

❝ Do you kiss your mama with that mouth?  ❞

❝ What the fuck is your problem?  ❞

❝ Here’s the list of names I need you to run down for me.  ❞

❝ That’s a funny-ass name.  ❞

❝ If you want special favors you gotta give me something in return.  ❞

❝  I tried to walk the line but now I realize there is no line.  ❞

❝ I can’t fucking wait! You want it? Here it is, come and get it.  ❞                                

                                       SYMBOLS/GAMES

SEND  💋 FOR MY MUSE TO REVEAL A SECRET

SEND ¿ FOR A MEMORY MY MUSE HAS (optional: OF ___)

SEND MY MUSE “👀 + A QUESTION” AND THEY’LL HAVE TO ANSWER WITH 100% HONESTY

SEND  ✄ FOR A FAVORITE MOVIE OF MY MUSES

SEND  ✚ FOR ONE OF MY MUSE’S MOST PRIZED POSSESSIONS

SEND  ✿ FOR A HAPPY MEMORY MY MUSE HAS

SEND ♬ FOR A CHILDHOOD HEADCANON

SEND  ☼ FOR A DREAM HEADCANON

SEND  ✜ FOR A FEAR HEADCANON

SEND ☠ FOR A DEATH HEADCANON

SEND ◊ FOR A HEADCANON OF MUN’S CHOOSING

SEND  ♤ FOR SOMETHING MY MUSE DISLIKES OR HATES

SEND  ★ FOR A TALENT HEADCANON

SEND  △ FOR A SEX HEADCANON

SEND  ⊗ FOR SOMETHING MY MUSE HAS A PHOBIA OF

SEND  ⭐️ AND I WILL GIVE A FACT ABOUT MY MUSE

SEND [BRAGGART] FOR MY MUSE TO BRAG ABOUT THEMSELVES

SEND  👀 FOR MY MUSE TO TALK ABOUT THE ONE THING OTHERS HAVE THAT THEY DON’T

SEND [ENVIOUS] TO FIND OUT WHAT MY MUSE GETS JEALOUS OVER

SEND [VENT] FOR MY MUSE TO RANT ABOUT SOMETHING/THAT GETS THEM RILED UP

SEND [CHILL] TO FIND OUT HOW MY MUSE CALMS DOWN

SEND [RELAX] TO FIND OUT HOW MY MUSE RELAXES

SEND  💏 TO FIND OUT ABOUT MY MUSE’S FIRST KISS

SEND 👶 TO FIND OUT ABOUT MY MUSE’S CHILDHOOD

SEND [FAMILIAL] TO FIND OUT ABOUT MY MUSE’S RELATIONSHIP WITH THEIR FAMILY

                                   QUESTIONS/DEVELOPMENT

Do you hurt people without consideration?

Does it ever get tiring, keeping so many secrets?

Are you scared of letting others help you?

Do you jump so quickly into relationships only to leave just as quick?

Do you need other people’s approval?

Do you believe in yourself?

Do you not think you’re worth more?

Do you like to feel broken or have you just learned to live with the pain?

Are you afraid of your flaws?

Do you fake your confidence so people can’t see how self-conscious you truly are?

Have you ever stopped to think how others feel when you leave them behind because you got bored?

Do you claim to be innocent when you are guilty of much pain and abuse?

Can you live independently?

Do you jump into relationships before you are even aware of what love is?

Do you ever take responsibility for your own actions?

Do other people’s opinions matter much to you?

Do you have to win every argument you get into?

Will you ever be able to fully show another person your flaws and insecurities and realize they still love you?

Do you see emotions as a vulnerability?

Are you so proud and mighty that you must go through life without ever letting others help you?

Are you incapable of realizing you aren’t perfect?

Do you try hard to make sure nobody ever finds out who you really are?

Does your social appearance dictate how you live your life?

Do you think you are only worth love if you conceal your true self?

Do you hide your loneliness behind your humor?

Do you expect people to be honest with you?

Do you expect people to be honest with you, even if you lie and deceive them?

Do you have to one-up people every single chance you get?

Do you ever take other people’s feelings into consideration?

How narcissistic are you?

Do you need to be better than everyone?

Is it hard for you to express your emotions to others?

Do you let others walk all over you?

Will you ever let other people see who you truly are?

#resurrectiontask

[tartareus]

Do you condone/ship incest? I was reading your rules and got confused about your sentence where you said if people are uncomfortable with fictional consensual incest this isn’t the blog for you. Except Incest is incest regardless of if it’s fiction

hi there, friend, how do you do?

while i'm not particularly fond of anons (nex time you'd like to discuss something regarding my rules and/or character portrayal, i strongly encourage you to do so via ims - i don't bite, and if our points of view don't quite match? that's alright, i promise i'll leave you in peace :) ) for various reasons, i'm so glad you've read my rules (that probably makes you one of the few who follow me - at least i presume you do, idk - who has done so, so thank you so much!), i cannot stress enough how important they are to me. if i happen to follow you, rest assured that i have read yours (unless, ofc, i couldn't find one in your blog - in any case, if i happen to accidentally break one of yours, just hmu or gimme a nudge).

considering that you've asked more than one question, i'll answer to you in separate sections - needless to say that while i break it down your questions, the answer might become a little longer than usual (again, i'm sorry). i'll keep this tagged, in case any of my followers don't feel like reading about this. without further ado, let’s dive in.´

“do you condone/ship incest?”

short answer? nope. but that is not a black or white question i’m afraid. no, i – nox, the human behind this blog of fictional characters – personally do not condone incest , never have and never will, and  don’t ship it. i do, however, ship consanguinamory on rare occasions, and when i do happen to write it i never do it in a good light.

for those who are not familiar with the term, here’s a little bit of info about it x && x. in short, the key difference between them is: incest is usually linked abuse (a fictional example that can be used, taking in consideration one of my very own muses, in this case is margot verger – who was sadly abused by her brother in the hannibal books) while consanguinamory (the lannisters, for example, or even the sharpe siblings from crimson peak are examples of consanguineous relationships) is the consensual romantic and/or sexual relationship between members of the same family who are of consenting age.

[ personally, i find both of them gross as fuuck irl but when it comes to fictional works i may get over this first disgust and ponder more on that && take in consideration the characters arch, plot, thoughts and the whole world they are set in. ]

i suppose the turning point here is the consent. i never, never, condone any sort of abuse – not in fiction and neither in real life – and while it’s a subject that bothers me to no end in real life, when it comes to fiction i am less inclined to project into them. i may write dark and toxic relationships, but i obviously do not condone them. that’s the point here – people on this hellsite usually mix the two together (condoning something and shipping/writing it, that is) when in fact they shouldn’t even be in the same box to begin with.

let’s say you write a fictional serial killer – norman bates, tate langdon, hannibal lecter, catherine tramell (that chick from basic instinct), patrick bateman, mrs lovett and sweeney todd, kai anderson, bellatrix, grindelwald and voldemort (the list of plausible examples could go on forever…) – here and ship with them; does it mean that you, the writer, condone every single action and choice your muse does? if writing something purely fictional equals to condoning it in real life, well… the world is even more fucked up than i first thought.

you see, in this little exercise in imagination, you could’ve easily picked a good guy or gal to write, the hero; the goody two shoes. why didn’t you? well, it’s complicated to pin point why some are drawn to darker works of fiction and characters while others are not, i suppose each individual has their own reasons && i can only speak for myself when i say that i am drawn to these sort of fictional works because they the safest way to explore dark topics that pertain to human society. on my side, it’s nothing but raw curiosity.

there’s also the issue of how different cultures see these relationships. in case you haven’t noticed, i am not from the states but actually from brazil. especially in the rural area, it’s not uncommon for second cousins to date or even marry (ew, i know, pretty gross). that’s something that is luckily falling out of practice, but you can easily find it, more so in the poor rural areas that are really far from the cities.

you may have noticed that most of the sources for the terms come from a blog that advocates real life consanguinamory – but make no mistake, i don’t support it. these were the only places i’ve found as sources in a quick look online. i don’t support it irl, but whatever consenting adults are doing amongst themselves is no concern of mine – i have no say on the matter and all in all, i don’t give a damn. i just don’t like it. everything i’ve discussed here is related to fiction, consent and is only ever related to people of consenting age.

“i was reading your rules and got confused about your sentence where you said if people are uncomfortable with fictional consensual incest this isn’t the blog for you. except incest is incest regardless of if it’s fiction”

to be honest with you, anon, i couldn’t possibly see how you���ve got confused with this. i thought i was pretty clear with that, but perhaps not. sorry, my english is not perfect. however, with the risk of sounding like a meme, i said what i said. if you personally feel uncomfortable or even triggered with fictional consensual incest otherwise known as consanguinamory, maybe my blog isn’t for you. not because i – as the mun –  condone it, but because i might mention it or even allude to it when i write certain characters. again, consent is the main thing here – you won’t ever see me writing that awful part of margot’s past, but i might mention it on some threads as it is part of her trauma but i will write jaime’s feelings regarding cersei and joanna’s love for tywin – and that should not be overlooked.

“except incest is incest regardless of if it’s fiction” 

so far so good, am i to assume that you also believe that “murder is murder, regardless of if it is fiction or not”? should we call the police on, idk, george rr martin for killing....hell knows how many characters...at this point i’m sure not even he knows. leaving my petty comment aside (it’s the arthritis, i’m always annoyed when in pain), i see where you’re coming from; fair enough.  but you missed a big point here – consensual. i do not write abuse, even to the muses who – in the canon source material – have done so    ( like jaime lannister himself – who’s in a consanguinamorous [therefore, falling under the category of fictional consensual incest] relationship with cersei – who abused his sister next to their son’s dead body [ yeah, jaime apologists, i’m out to get y’all...jokes aside, i do not acknowledge people claiming that cersei manipulated him into going to bed with her, while they are both shitty and toxic as fuck people, their relationship is mutually messed up – gag if you must but jaime lannister is far from innocent angel ] )     in the past. i. don’t. write. it. but i do write jaime’s feelings for cersei because they are canon and are also a big part of the character he became.

all of that, of course, has to do with my own position on the “war” between the people who believe fiction has a great power and influence over reality vs the ones who do not believe in that. personally, i find it hard to believe that fiction is a brainwashing tool rewiring people’s brains  - i find the idea itself ludicrous, the ones who strongly stand for that aren’t that different from flat-earthers and people who believe in reverse racism tbh – but i do acknowledge the influence media has on society. its not nearly enough to turn someone to the “dark side” alone by itself – those who claim that videogames, for example, made them violent most likely already had something different and perhaps wrong with them before the games triggered something. i don’t believe that media creates things on people, but brings buried things (fears, feelings, emotions, hopes) back to the surface. it’s all about the stimulus.

if you wanna be scared, watch an horror movie; if you wanna be happy, a comedy video.  wanna feel warm inside and live unrealistic romantic expectations vicariously through fictional characters? read a 50.000 words slow burn fluffy happy fanfic of your otp at 3 am even though you gotta wake up early in the following morning....

point is, they are not creating things, they are bringing forth responses from you that were already there in your brain (everybody has laughed before and felt fear, it’s part of human development). and how you react to certain content is entirely to you and your past. say, if you drowned as a kid on the sea - and had trauma from that - the idea of watching titanic is not so fun, is it?

it’s not my place to decide what you should do, that is entirely your own choice to make, just be aware that, as i’ve stated before countless times, i may write dark topics that may or may not be triggering to some.  i do so because it is my blog, and i don’t react so harshly to this content (in fact, i love horror, thriller and dark fictional stuff – meanwhile i dread the thought of rom coms, hell knows why??) for i am lucky to be able to separate fiction from reality. basically, whilst writing a villain, i myself do not become one in real life – that part remains in fiction only and doesn’t affect me.

that is not a constant, sure. i don’t just write dark shady stuff – there’s plenty of fluffy shit on my blog, but i like to warn people beforehand to make sure we are all on the same page. it’s for your own comfort, i suppose, because i may not understand certain points of view on fiction but i will always defend your right to be comfortable and safe.

so yes, if you aren’t feeling well at that notion, please unfollow and block me if you must – i never wish to cause any discomfort to anyone – however, before you do so (that is, if you do so) i beg you to just send me an im warning me beforehand, please? that way i can block you – and your other blogs as well – so the chances of me running into you again and causing you discomfort will be minimal. that way we’ll both be on own respective lanes and happy about it. i mass follow very often and don’t usually know which blogs belong to whom (uh, did that make sense? my latina ass is not used to using whom in a sentence....), i may follow another blog (or the revamped blog) of someone who has blocked me and never even realise it – that’s not me following you around and stalking like a total creep, that’s probably me not even remembering who you are. again, sorry – i don’t mean for this to come off rude or anything but???? its the truth? you know the drill, big following list, big followers list (well, big for me tbh, i cannot remember the name or alias of 600 people for the life of me, excuse me if my memory doesn’t serve me right), hard to keep track. there will be no witch hunts, at least on my part, because i deem them to be childish and way too dramatic for my taste. if you’d like to speak in private, adult to adult, i’m always game – i dread vague posting, i personally see it as a pathetic and weak trait. 

as long as you’re civil, so am i.

either way, do whatever makes you feel comfortable and safe on your blog – your  mental health is far more important (to me, and hopefully to you as well) than a hobby, than tumblr, rp or whatever fictional stuff someone’s writing or reading; you are responsible for your own online experience, and i am responsible for mine. that’s an empowering thing that should be reminded more often.

i truly hope i’ve managed to answer whatever doubts or questions you had in mind, if not my ims are always open and so is my discord. once again, thank you for reading my rules and stay safe!

edit; my dumb ass forgot to drop my disco handle, since i change often. it currently is   DOCTOR BITCHCRAFT !!! | 𝒏𝒐𝒙#1398

#tw; incest mention #tw; consanguinamory mention #tw; abuse mention #ASK TO TAG. #answered. #oh my god man im sorry this got so long #for real #i just kept musing and musing #i hope it answers whatever questions you had #whoever you are? #either way #feel free to hmu if you wanna chat or smth idk #whatever feels comfortable to you #thats all folks #move along #i truly home j.aim* stans dont come at me bc i #cant deal with their bs rn #i love my golden lion but hes an asshole #i mean he threw a child out of a window #how fucked up that is #oh no im back to my asoi*f bs #byeee #Anonymous

[elusive---ivory]

The Woman In Velvet pt 14

Oof, second to last chapter, boys. We all knew this was coming. A shoutout to @princessgeekface for being my editor through this process. You are wonderful 💕💕💕

PARING: Arthur Fleck x Oc

WARNING: Violence

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Taglist (I love you all so so much 💕💕):

@jaylovesbats @memory-mortis @gloomyladyy @mijachula @princessgeekface @radio-hoo-ha @lolacolaempath

"I'm not sure my wife would like that. Maybe my next wife." Murray's voice boomed on the stage.

Roaring of laughter came from the audience.

"You should see our next guest coming up. I'm pretty sure this guy could use a doctor." Murray commented.

"Oh? Does he have sexual problems?" Dr. Sally asked.

"I think he's got a lot of problems. Let's show that clip one last time." Murray said.

Arthur's clip played.

The audience ate it up, listening to Arthur's laughter in the clip.

Sandy rolled her eyes, looking over at Arthur, who was staring intently at the curtains.

Sandy stood back from the curtains, carefully watching Arthur's movements. The tech guys next to Arthur looked uncomfortable, and tried shuffling away.

"You might've seen that clip of our next guest. Now, before he comes out, I just wanted to say that we're all heartbroken about what's going on in the city tonight, but this is how he wanted to come out. I honestly believe we could all use a good laugh. So, please welcome Joker."

As the jazz band started, the curtains fell back, revealing Arthur. Arthur came onstage, dancing and twirling around.

Sandy watched from backstage. She looked over by the curtain, seeing Arthur's still lit cigarette. Sandy picked it up, taking a small puff, before distinguishing it.

Arthur shook Murray's hand, then headed over to Dr. Sally, who was just expecting a hug. He cupped Dr. Sally cheeks and kissed her passionately.

Sandy rolled her eyes, crossing her arms backstage.

Whistles and ahhs came from the audience.

Dr. Sally had a very shocked look on her face, as she sat back down.

"That was quite the entrance." Murray commented.

Arthur looked around at the scenery of it all.

Murray looked at Arthur, raising a comedic eyebrow. "You ok?"

"Yeah, this is exactly how I imagined it." Arthur replied.

"Well, that makes one of us." Murray joked.

Laughter and applause came from the audience.

Sandy continued watching from a small television backstage.

"So, could you tell us about this look? You said when we spoke earlier that this wasn't a political statement." Murray said, pointing out his makeup.

"That's right, Murray. I'm not political. I'm just trying to make people laugh." Arthur looked over to the audience, not one of them chuckling.

Sandy cracked a smile backstage.

"And how's that going for you?" Murray commented, again.

The audience once again roared with laughter.

Sandy's cracked smile turned into an angry frown.

Arthur mocked the audience's laughter with his own demented cackle.

"Tell us about your lady friend backstage. She's also dressed as apart of your act. Do you two got a thing going on?" Murray asked.

Sandy paused. Her eyebrows furrowed at the TV. She crossed her arms

Arthur smirked. "It's a little more than 'a thing'. She's my sweetheart. My dear, Sandy."

Awws and oohs came from the audience.

Murray laughed. "Ha. I've heard that one before."

The audience howled with laughter.

Sandy glared hard at the television. She wasn't laughing one bit. All of Murray's jokes were stale and just blatantly mean to Arthur.

"So you tell us you're a comedian. Got any new material? Wanna tell us a joke?" Murray asked, not sounding too pleasant.

The audience applauded.

"Yeah? Okay." Arthur took out his joke book.

"He's gotta book full of jokes." Murray commented.

Arthur flipped a few pages into his notebook.

Arthur paused for a second.

"Take your time. You got all night." Murray laughed.

"Okay, okay. Here's one, knock knock." Arthur said.

"And you had to look that up." Murray commented.

The audience laughed.

Sandy couldn't take the stress. She bit her thumb. She wanted to bash Murray's skull in, see if he was still joking about that.

"I wanna get it right." Arthur's voice was somber.

Sandy couldn't look. She turned her head away from the television.

"Knock, knock." Arthur repeated.

"Who's there?" Murray replied.

"It's the police, ma'am. Your son's been hit by a drunk driver. He's dead." Arthur chuckled.

A loud groan came from the audience.

Sandy laughed at Arthur's edgy joke. Two of the tech guys stared strangely at her. She smiled, watching the television.

"No, no, no. We do not joke about that." Dr. Sally scolded.

"Yeah, that's not funny, Arthur." Murray said.

Arthur chuckled, looking down. "Yeah, I'm sorry. It's just been a rough few weeks. Ever since I..."

Arthur trailed off. His eyes wandered over the audience.

"Ever since I killed those three wallstreet guys." Arthur said, quietly.

Murray looked around at the audience. "Okay, I'm waiting for the the punchline."

"There is no punchline. It's not a joke." Arthur's voice was monotonous. His eyes swelled up with sadness.

A loud gasp washed over the audience.

Sandy closed her eyes, taking a deep sigh. She couldn't help, but feel remorse in this moment. Remorse for Arthur. The tech guys stared at the TV in shock.

Murray gave Arthur a disgusted glare. "You're serious, aren't you? You're telling us you killed those three young men on the subway?"

"Mmhmm." Arthur mumbled.

Murray raised his eyebrow. "And why should we believe you?"

Arthur smirked, shrugging. "Got nothing left to lose. Nothing can hurt me anymore."

Arthur paused for a moment, before chuckling. "My life is nothing but a comedy."

Loud booes came from the audience.

Sandy smirked.

Murray shook his head. "So let me get this straight. You think killing those guys is funny?"

Arthur smacked his lips. "I do, and I'm tired of pretending it's not. Comedy is subjective, Murray. Isn't that what they say? All of you, the system that knows so much. You decide what's right or wrong. The same way you what's funny or not."

More booes and groans came from the audience.

Murray stuttered. "I think I might understand that you did this to start a movement, to become a symbol."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Come on, MurRay. Do I look like the kind of clown that could start a movement? I killed those guys because they were awful. Everybody is awful these days. It's enough to make anyone crazy."

Murray leaned back in his chair. "So, that's it you're crazy? That's your defense for killing three young men."

Arthur smirked, widely. "No. They couldn't carry a tomb to save their lives."

Sandy laughed loudly from backstage. The two tech guys were glued to the screen, cautious of the lady in front of them.

Arthur smiled, hearing Sandy's laughter from backstage.

More booes and groans followed the audience.

Arthur dramatically rolled his eyes. "Oh, why are people so upset about these guys? If it was me dying on the sidewalk, you'd walk all over me. I PASS you every day, and you DON'T notice me. Oh, but these guys, because Thomas Wayne went and cried about them on TV."

Sandy could hear the pain and tension in his voice. Arthur was at his breaking point. Seeing him like this broke Sandy's heart. A black tear ran down her face. She cracked a smile, holding it all together.

Murray continued pushing his questions. "So, you've got a problem with Thomas Wayne?"

Arthur nodded his head, vigorously. "Yes, I do."

Arthur turned his head towards Murray.

"Have you seen what it's like out there, MurRay? Do you ever actually leave the studio? Everybody just yells and screams at each other. Nobody's civil ANYMORE! Nobody THINKS what it's like to be the other guy. You think men like Thomas Wayne ever think about what it's like to be someone like me. To be somebody, but themselves. They DON'T. They think we'll just sit there and take it like GOOD LITTLE BOYS and we won't WEREWOLF and go WILD."

Sandy's eyes widened, as she covered her mouth to silent her laughing sobs. She never seen this much pain coming from just one man. The techs seemed to get invested with Arthur's big speech.

Murray his head. "Are you finished? There's so much self pity, Arthur. It's almost like you're making excuses for killing those three men. What about your sweetheart, huh, Sandy? She's not awful, right? Not everyone, and I'll tell you this, not everyone is awful."

Arthur glared at Murray. "You're awful, Murray."

"Me? I'm awful? How am I awful?" Murray said, defensively.

Arthur's green ocean eyes glared menacingly at Murray. "Playing my video. Inviting me on the show. You just wanted to make fun of me. You're just like the rest of them."

Murray scoffed. "You don't know the first thing about me, pal. Look what happened because of what you did. What it led to. Two officers are in critical condition because of what you did."

Arthur started laughing with a gentle tear rolling down his face.

"And you're laughing. You're laughing. Someone was killed today because of what you did."

Arthur kept nodding and smiling. "I know. How about another joke, MurRay."

Murray shook his head. "No, I think we've had enough of your jokes."

"What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a SOCIETY that ABANDONS him and treats him like TRASH? I'll tell you what you get. YOU GET WHAT YOU FUCKING DESERVE."

Arthur pulled out the gun, shooting Murray in the head.

The audience ran screaming in terror.

Arthur laughed to himself. Getting up, he shot Murray a second time in the chest

Sandy and the techs witnessed the horror firsthand. Sandy ran out onto the stage.

"Arthur." Sandy screamed.

Arthur walked up to the camera.

"Goodnight, and always remember. That's life."

Arthur was promptly tackled by security.

#joker arthur fleck #joker x reader #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x oc #joker x oc #the woman in velvet

[ducklingdraws]

My Idea for a Scooby-Doo! Reboot

So a while back, after noticing that Scooby-Doo: Mystery Incorporated was on Spectrum On Demand, I decided, "Hey, I'm gonna rewatch this show." I don't know why I did it, because I rarely ever rewatch shows. I'll watch reruns, but never have I actually decided to rewatch a television series. But, I did it for Scooby-Doo.

And frankly, I had forgotten how good the show was. It's honestly really dark, while also being absolutely hilarious; and in its humor, the show actually does really unique things with the Scooby-Doo gang, with the biggest example being this show's version of Fred Jones. It's wild. But in my opinion, the thing that really makes this show what it is...

...is its story. I feel like the story and characters are fuel for this show in a way that feels different from other shows, somehow. I don't really get it, but that's the way I see it.

So, seeing as there's all these serialized cartoon series nowadays, and Scooby-Doo is always getting rebooted in one way or another, I figured... what if I rebooted Scooby? If I had the opportunity to reboot Scooby-Doo and the only Warner Bros requirement was "just make it," what would I do with it?

Without further ado, this is To the Future, Scooby-Doo!

First up: The Premise

To kick things off, I'll discuss how the show is set up. This version of Scooby-Doo is set in the future. Technology has become more holographic and stuff like in the movies, but fashion hasn't evolved to be nothing but latex bodysuits yet. Flying cars are real but not very widely used, and clothes can tell the time.

On the biological side of things, prosthetics are holographic as well, and incredibly easy to attach. It's almost like having your original limb. Food is healthier while also being more environmentally friendly, and animals have been genetically modified for a very long time. They have been allowed to mate, which has eventually lead to many domesticated animals being able to speak!

The main setting is a large port town known as Port Intrigue, where all sorts of goods are traded, and many people lead peaceful lives. It's a nice place, and a lot of the economy is structured around it. There are other important trade cities like it, but Port Intrigue may be the most powerful.

It's also probably the weirdest, because in true Scooby-Doo fashion, no one can just "be a criminal." Heck no! Where's the fun in that?? If you're gonna try and get money through illegal fear tactics, you've gotta do it in style!!

And for some reason or another, the police get a little help with solving a lot of the more, uh... colorful mysteries. Help from a group of kids attending Intrigue High...

Next up: The Scooby Gang!

So here's the big part! All of my redesigns of the classic gang! Let's kick it off with:

FRED JONES

So this version of Fred is definitely toned back from various recent versions of Scooby-Doo, particularly the DVD movies and Mystery Incorporated. He's a lot more laid back, and has a sort of "cool guy" persona.

One day a long time ago, his parents, 2 great scientists, didn't pick him up from school, and apparently they mysteriously disappeared. So since then he's been living with Shaggy. At Intrigue High, he is in the theater program as a Tech, so he's good with pulleys and ropes and other various behind-the-scenes theater things, which makes him really good at making weird Rube Goldbergs - and traps, whenever the need arises. But when would Fred ever need to build a trap?

NORVILLE "SHAGGY" ROGERS

...Y'all can excuse the scribbles in the lower corner, right?

Anyway, this version of Shaggy is just as uptight as he always is, but instead of that only being attributed to mystery solving and creepy ghoulies, it's evolved into some much, much greater!!!

He's the mom friend now.

Y'know, telling everyone to watch their eating habits and be careful of opening soda cans because so help me if you scratch yourself...!

Long time ago he lost his arm so now he has one of those cool prosthetics. The trauma of losing it though has made him extra cautious, and a bit of a scaredy cat. Of course, he's willing to do whatever it takes for his friends, just like the Shaggy we all know!

He still likes to eat and is a bit of an amateur chef, participating in the culinary club at Intrigue High.

VELMA DINKLEY

This is my rendition of Velma Dinkley. She's still the smartest one of the group, and good at technology, but is also a boxer! She's not just strong, but also strong willed!

The Dinkley's have a long, long history of scientific endeavors, and Velma's father is a great scientist as well! Though really, it's more of a hobby for him.

Velma lives with her younger sister Madelyn (who some of you might remember from Abracadabra-Doo) and her father, Victor.

This Velma is snarky, yet quirky. She's got a real go-getter mentality, which everyone can't help but to respect.

DAPHNE BLAKE

Daphne Blake is a bit of a softie. She was never very forward with making friends, but developed a clique of her own with Fred, Shaggy, Scooby and Velma.

Her house used to be the gang's main hang out spot, but after the kids moved on to high school, they haven't been over to her house at all.

Daphne likes to draw, and really wants to be a fashion designer. In fact, she's a part of Intrigue High's costume design team for the theater program!

SCOOBY-DOO

Scooby-Doo has been part of the Rogers family ever since he was a puppy, and Shaggy was a little kid. The two have been basically inseparable their whole lives, with Scooby even attending school with everyone else.

He likes belly rubs, scratches behind the ear, and food. So in other words, he's the same Scooby we all know and love! Still fearful, but dedicated to his friends, including...

MEASLES

Shaggy and Scooby may have been buds since they were little kids, but before Shaggy, Scooby had Measles.

Since they're both GMO animals, they both have the ability to speak human language, which they would use to try and get food. Eventually, Measles was able to get Scooby into a good home with the Rogers family. Unfortunately, Mr and Mrs Rogers couldn't afford to take care of Shaggy, Fred, a dog, and a cat, but Measles promised to visit Scooby whenever she could, or that they'd at least see each other around. And she's kept that promise! Even to this day, the gang will sometimes find her in random locations, like... the Theater Program's costume box?

Measles has a lackadaisical, yet somewhat snarky personality, but definitely cares for her friends. It just may take a while to show it.

Last up: Everything Else

Uh, hm. I guess this is the generalization of the show.

Well, it's a giant celebration of Scooby-Doo. The gang wears different outfits, rarely wearing the same one in consecutive episodes. And each outfit would be pulled from a previous Scooby series (yes, including *shivers*... Get a Clue).

Also, other characters from previous series and Scooby media are not only in the show, but play decently sized rolls. For example, I already mentioned Madelyn Dinkley, but there's also Red Herring from A Pup Named Scooby-Doo, or Mayor Nettles and Sherriff Bronson Stone from Mystery Incorporated (they're married from the start this time!). Even the dreaded Scrappy Doo makes his return at (what I imagine to be) the start of Season 2, hopefully to redeem himself and not be relegated to a tired joke about "lol Scrappee sux XD"

Flim-Flam is back too, but is rebranded as Frida McScam, the fast talking troublemaking free spirited girl who takes everybody's crap and spins it in her favor (and also might be psychic).

Scooby's family tree is mentioned, and his parents even have a major role in Season 1.

Just a whole lot of Scooby-Doo trivia and stuff. Stuff that I imagine the people working on the show would be way, way better at remembering and putting to use than I am!

As for the overarching plot?

Well, what futuristic setting would be complete without aliens? I imagine the aliens would be a race of owl creatures known as the Willawaw (another Scooby reference because I hope this show is FULL OF THEM). Basically, these aliens are the bad guys, both in the show proper, and in a lot of the show's backstory. They're like myth villains, or greater scope villains, or something.

I was even thinking like, when the gang ends up running, rather than using a recyclable run cycle from a side view, everyone could have brand new running animations, like to distinguish them all as unique. Although I guess that's what the running cycles were... but the chase scenes are a lot like Mystery Inc, where they were a lot more action packed. It could be great! And of course, everyone would use the classic running style at some point throughout the show, because that seems to be tradition for Scooby-Doo.

This was a really big post! But if you read all of it, thanks a million! I hope you liked the small amount of art within, or just the idea in general! Maybe I'll even draw my reimagined takes on the other characters some day. But for now, I'll leave at this.

#drawing #art #my art #cartoon #cartoons #character design #my artwork #artists on tumblr #aliens #Scooby-Doo #cartoon network #warner bros #boomerang #velma scooby doo #shaggy and velma #fred scooby doo #fred jones #daphne blake #velma dinkley #shaggy rogers #oc #fan art #fanart #scooby doo fanart #mystery inc

[rhinozilla]

Whumptober Day 5: Gunpoint

Summary: A damaged android reactivates at a crime scene and shoots when she sees the ‘Deviant Hunter.’ Now Ben has to de-escalate the situation and get to Connor before it’s too late.

--

Ben and his team had only just begun to process the crime scene of a red ice lab in the rundown house when they heard a single gunshot. Now the whole place was on lockdown, and Ben had tracked the gunshot to the old master bedroom. They had the building surrounded, and he had seen Gavin giving hand signals directing the other cops into position.

The master bedroom looked like it had served as the dumping zone for android bodies once they had been drained of thirium to make the red ice. Connor had been alone in the room analyzing the bodies when the shot rang out. In the hallway outside the room, Ben had had a brief visual of the shooter, but not of Connor. The shooter appeared to be an android who still had some fight left in her. She was wearing a uniform that looked like that of a hostess of a high end restaurant, though now it was stained with dirt and partially-evaporated thirium. Her hair was fraying out of its ponytail, and her eyes…and the gun in her hands…were pointed at the corner of the room out of his line of sight.

Ben had put on the Kevlar vest that Gavin shoved at him, and they exchanged a silent look and a nod before Ben attempted to make contact. He hadn’t trained as a negotiator in years, but they didn’t have time to wait for one to show up. Connor could be hurt. Ben pressed his back against the wall beside the open doorway, not showing himself yet and giving her a new target.

“Hey! We’re the police,” he identified. “My name’s Ben. The people who hurt you aren’t here anymore. We took them away…What’s your name?”

“Stay back!” she shrieked, voice high pitched with fear and panic.

“Okay, I’ll stay right here.” Ben said calmly. “You gotta talk to me though, or I can’t help you. And I only want to help you.” He swallowed. “What’s your name?”

“Claire,” she stated.

On the other side of the door, also out of the android’s sight, Gavin looked at Ben flatly, making a hastening gesture with his hand. Ben ignored him.

“Claire? Okay, Claire, I’m a police officer,” he repeated. “We aren’t going to hurt you. Do you believe me?”

“P-Police…Humans?”

“Yes, we’re humans…You’ve got an android in there with you now, though, right? His name’s Connor. Is Connor still alive?”

There was a pause.

“I don’t…know.” Her voice ticked up in a panic. “He’s…He’s the Deviant Hunter…He was coming to kill me!”

“No, he wasn’t, Claire. I promise,” Ben said, concern crawling up his neck about his guy’s safety. “There was a revolution, remember?”

He stared over at Gavin, who was twisting his head to try and see the corner of the room that Claire had been staring at. Apparently seeing what he needed to see, Gavin looked to Ben and nodded, gesturing to his leg to indicate that he had eyes on Connor, but he’d been shot in the thigh. Probably bleeding heavily. Probably unconscious from it, or at least immobile.

“Revol—Yes, I—I remember…”

Steeling himself, Ben tilted his head against the all. “Claire, I need to check on Connor. He’s been shot, right? He’s not a danger to you, and neither am I. I’m unarmed.”

“He…He tried…” Her voice was faltering, falling from its panicked level to something that sounded close to reasonable.

Gavin was staring at the corner of the room with a deepening frown, so it must have been bad. Ben couldn’t wait any longer. Gavin’s eyes snapped to him as Ben slowly moved into the doorway, eying him like he was crazy, but not trying to stop him. Ben held up his empty hands as he stepped into the room.

Claire didn’t put her gun on him, keeping it aimed awkwardly at an overturned desk near the corner of the room. There was a thick line of blue blood trailing to the desk, where Connor had apparently dragged himself as far as he could after being shot. He could just see Connor’s shoulder and one leg where he had propped himself up against the desk, out of the line of fire.

It was a lot of blood on the floor.

Claire stood in the middle of the room, eyes wide and visibly trembling all over.

Ben took slow steps, telegraphing his movements as he got closer to Connor. Now, he could see that Connor was sitting in a pool of blue. The bullet had hit one of the big thirial arteries, it looked like. Shit. He was also slouched against the desk, head lolling toward his shoulder, his LED red. Double shit.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Ben informed Claire, kneeling down next to Connor. “He needs help.”

“Th-then…h-help him…I guess,” Claire stammered. “He…He wasn’t going to—I thought—“

“You remember the revolution happened?” Ben said, forcing patience into his voice. “Everybody’s deviant now, even him. He can’t hunt himself, can he?”

Ben knelt down beside Connor, touching his hands to the sides of Connor’s face. The android barely responded, sluggishly opening his eyes and struggling to focus on Ben. Ben offered a tight smile, loosening Connor’s tie and carefully removing it from around his neck. He looped the material around Connor’s upper leg above the bullet wound, quickly tying it off in a tourniquet.

Claire had taken a few steps closer as he did this, worrying at her bottom lip as she faced them, one shoulder turned toward the entryway.

“I was…scared,” she stated. “I…I woke up and…and everything was different. I didn’t ask to deviate! It…It was forced on me, and I…then I saw HIM and th-thought—Please don’t shut me down! I’m sorry!”

“Nobody is shutting anybody down,” Ben assured, tightening the tourniquet until Connor flinched.

Some thirium still pulsed weakly out of the wound, because a fabric neck tie could only do so much, but it would have to do. Ben positioned Connor’s hands over the damage and pressed down lightly.

“Can you hold that?” he instructed.

Connor managed a nod, though the tremor in his elbows said he wouldn’t be able to hold it very long.

“Ben…” he mumbled, static lacing his voice. “She was scared…Didn’t mean…to…”

“Easy.” Ben touched his arm. “Save your energy, kid.” He looked to Claire. “I need you to put the gun down, Claire. You know that I’m not going to hurt you? That Connor isn’t going to hurt you?”

Claire stared at him and meekly nodded. The gun was pointing at the floor and dangling from loose fingers. Probably the first time the poor woman had ever held a gun, much less shot someone with it.

Ben saw Connor starting to slump further in his periphery, but he kept his eyes on Claire, only keeping a firmer grip on Connor.

“Now you need to show me that you’re not going to hurt me or him,” he went on. “You don’t want to hurt people. I know this was an accident,” he gestured to Connor, fully unconscious now. “But what you do from here on out isn’t going to be an accident.”

Claire breathed a little faster, her LED burning a panicked red. She took another step closer toward them, not close enough to harm, likely just to drive home her point. It did, however, put her back entirely to the doorway.

“I w-was…only defending myself—“ she started.

She was cut off as Gavin launched out from behind the door at her back. One hand grabbed her wrist, breaking her grip on the gun as he tackled her to the floor. Claire screamed and dropped the gun, hitting the floor on her front. She burst into tears as Gavin got her hands behind her back, pinning her down and kicking away the gun.

“I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! PLEASE! PLEASE, I’M SO SORRY!” she screamed.

“Shut up!” Gavin snapped, but there wasn’t any vitriol in his tone this time. “You’re under arrest. That means shut up and stop fighting or you’ll make it worse. Got it?”

Claire lapsed into whimpers, eyes screwed shut as she surrendered to Gavin locking reinforced android-proof handcuffs around her wrists. All the fight had gone out of her.

Situation under control now, Ben turned his full attention to Connor. The android had gone into emergency stasis brought on by blood loss. His LED was red, but it was pulsing steadily. Fast was bad, but slow was worse. Steady red was about all he could ask for right then.

Moving fast, Ben gently maneuvered Connor from his semi-upright position to his back on the floor. More cops were rushing into the room, mostly to help Gavin secure Claire and to make sure none of the other bodies in the piles decided to get up again too. Two of them hurried over to assist Ben.

“Elevate his legs,” Ben instructed, carefully straightening Connor’s neck so that he was laying straight. “Android emergency services?”

“On the way,” one cop said as they both picked up either of Connor’s legs at the knees.

The second cop who was holding his injured leg moved more gingerly, and the first cop yanked over a chair to prop his legs up on it until help arrived.

Ben undid the top buttons on Connor’s shirt, hoping that might help him respirate more easily. “Connor? I never know if you guys can hear us when you’re in this stasis mode thing, but you’re gonna be okay. Technicians are on the way. We’ll get you taken care of…Claire too.”

A third cop careened into view with a bottle of thirium from somebody’s first aid kit, and Ben took it as soon as it was offered. The idea of forcing an unconscious android to drink their own blood was nauseating, but Ben didn’t like the slowing spin of that red light. He didn’t want to wait for the techs.

“And here comes the fun part,” he sighed, looking at one of the cops. “Help me with this—“

The cop stammered, “I…I don’t know how to—“

“Well, you’re about to learn, dammit. Get over here.”

“Yes, sir.”

#whumptober2019 #no.5 #dbh connor #dbh ben collins

[rocknvaughn]

Transcript of the Audible Sessions Interview with Colin Morgan by Robin Morgan-Bentley

I’ve transcribed the audio interview of Colin done for Audible for our Hearing Impaired or English as Second Language friends. Enjoy!

(Link to a free download of the interview can be found here) 

Robin: Welcome to Audible Sessions. I’m Robin Morgan-Bentley, one of the producers of the show. Audible Sessions is a chance to spend some time with authors and narrators and find out what makes them tick. In this episode, I spoke to the actor Colin Morgan. He was in the studios to record The Worldship Humility, the start of a new science fiction series written by R. R. Haywood exclusively for Audible. Despite all his experience on stage and screen, this was the first time that Colin had recorded an audiobook, and so he approached the task with some trepidation.

Colin: I had the notion that it would be quite an intimidating prospect; something that I always wanted to do, but delving into it and looking at the prospect of actually doing it is kind of a different beast. Because you realise, particularly with something that has multi characters and sprawling stories, it requires quite a lot of work and prep. You can’t kind of just turn up and read it like you would when you read a book, so it’s been a bit of an eye opener to me to understand exactly what’s involved in it. But the team here, the building, the vibe, everybody just puts you at ease. Leo, the producer that I’m working with, has kind of guided me along. I’ve had very good helping hands, which I felt that I needed, because I think you can do all the prep in the world, but for new experiences especially, you need people who *know* and who listen a lot.

Robin: So what kind of guidance does Leo, the producer, give you in the studio?

Colin: Leo is not only there for moral support throughout, because you definitely feel like you’re embarking on something akin to a verbal version of a marathon. And so, you do need your little champions along the way. So he’s there on the other side of the glass, so you know you’re not alone in the world, and he’s following it word by word so any corrections that need done, he’s jumping in, any advice on characters that you’ve established a voice for that you’ve forgotten about that you need [to be] reminded of, he’ll jump in and establish and help you with the continuity of it. Because I’m not sure of the character count in this particular book, but it’s certainly--

Robin: It’s high.

Colin: --it’s over thirty, I think. Isn’t it? It must be.

Robin: Yeah.

Colin: It’s definitely over...So you need help in that. I’ve done as much as I can, but you kind of run out of colours after a while to colour code them for yourself, so he’s been great for that. And also just having fun doing it. That’s a big part of it. If it’s fun for us, hopefully it’s fun for the listener as well.

Robin: And it is quite fun, this book that you’ve been reading, isn’t it? Can you tell me a little bit about it, maybe set the scene of the world that exists in this book?

Colin: Okay, I’ll try. There’s a lot going on. You’re establishing a, really a whole set of new rules and a new system and a new world for this novel. We follow mainly Yasmine, who is a petty thief, who is onboard a Worldship. Inhabitants of Earth had to leave and established a series of worlds onboard ships in space, which are all kind of represented as nations. You’ve got the Worldship Humility, the one that we’re based on, we’ve got other ones: the Worldship Abstinence, various other ones, and they’re all existing. So we follow mainly on the Worldship Humility, following Yasmine as a petty thief on board, surviving, trying to score big, get money (which is in the form of credits onboard the ship), to go have fun, have a bit of a life. She’s originally from a place called the Elfors. As the ship is constructed, I think, on 40 levels, the lower four levels are the place where it’s the darkest place. It’s the slums, where people are underprivileged and unregistered, as everyone else is onboard, and aren’t policed, so the police don’t even go down there. That’s where she’s from. She goes up to the other levels, steals, brings the objects down, gets credits for them. That’s her main story. We also follow Sam Gobliniski, who works in one of the shuttles...so he’s in one of the docking stations like working for ships coming on and off.  And he’s a little bit of a, I guess you could call him like a bit of a nerd, or a bit of a geek, or a bit of a shy guy. And again, he’s a bit like Yasmine in the fact that he’s a bit lost, he’s a bit looking for something more. And you get the impression of that with a lot of people on the ship. Those are the two sort of main people, I think, that we follow throughout, but as I mentioned before, you’ve got a whole host of other complicated, systematic, political issues going on as well, as well as very dark stories running along side it, too. You’ve kind of got a mixture of, like, action, comedy, darkness, sprawling story; a sort of intrepid adventure.  

Robin: Is this the kind of book that you would pick up and read?

Colin: Yeah. I mean, I’m a fan of really good stories and if it grabs you or it interests you, it pulls you along, then in my book, it’s a good book.  So, that’s the only criteria for me, and that could be fact, fiction, or any genre, really.

Robin: So I guess that’s an important factor when you’re at what you want to do for work, right? When you get scripts coming in. Is that your main criterion? “Do I like this? Am I enjoying it? Do I believe in this story?”

Colin: Yeah, that’s my main criteria really. Whenever I read a script for work, I always read it as an audience member to begin with. That’s it, and “Am I entertained by this?”.  It can be hard sometimes, because you’re aware that there’s a part in there somewhere that you’re being asked to play or you’re being considered for, so you kind of have to shutter that off a little bit and not be blinded by the ‘forest for the trees’ thing. And you really have to look at the forest first, and then there’s a tree in there that you have to be and on maybe your second or maybe third read you can look at that and see what its details are. But I think first and foremost, it’s like reading a book for the first time. You want to experience it sort of untainted as much as possible with no expectations, which can be hard because you often get a lot of the details beforehand of who’s involved, what the outline of it is. But as much as possible, I try to get that first-hand experience because you never get it again.

Robin: And how did you get into this game? If you sort of rewind the clock...Were you a child or a teenager that was performing, that was acting? Were you an actor at school, or was it something that came a bit later? Can you pinpoint individuals along the way that have guided you? Tell me a bit about how you got here.

Colin: I describe acting as a natural instinct, really, for me. There was no defining moment, there was no, sort of, individual who I looked up at and thought, “Yes, that’s what I want to be.” It was just something I just sort of *did*, and that took the form of, you know, either performance or reading or whatever it was that involved, I guess, an element of performance I was just naturally drawn to and interested in. And of course, that leads to doing things at school, you know...your plays and, you know, poetry readings, and whatever it is, or writing your own things and performing them in front of people and seeing the reaction it can have from people is really interesting. You know, if kids aren’t maybe the most confident in life, sometimes if you’re able to be really creative in private and be able to deliver it publicly under a different guise, it can be really, sort of exhilarating. And so, that might be my experience, I suppose, and how it was, if you were to sort of analyse it. But, it was just fun; it was something I really enjoyed doing, and then it’s just about, as you get older, having the guts or having the drive to really pursue it. And yeah, then that’s a different journey you go on.

Robin:  And how important is risk-taking for you in your career? If you look for it. Are you looking to push boundaries? Are you looking to do something that you think you can’t do?

Colin: My main rule would be to choose things that I’m afraid of, that I know I can’t do, that I have no answer for. I love not knowing how I would do something, because I think it’s a really good starting point. If you read something and you have a part and you go, “Ah, yeah! I know exactly how I’d do that. I’ve done that before,”...Where do you go from there? There’s no sort of exploration, in my view. That you’ve kind of got all the answers, so you’ve sort of blocked off a collaborative approach possibly with someone who might be able to help you get somewhere you’ve never been before. So I like to come across something that I really, genuinely don’t know how to do, which is scary. And that’s the place to go.

Robin: The day that you got the call saying that Merlin was going to happen, and I assume that was a big moment for you, did you have that feeling of dread, of “What have I signed up for, here? How am I gonna do it?”

Colin: Yeah, always. Every project, everything I’ve ever had, I’ve never really thought, “Yeah...gonna be able to do that okay.”  So, for any project I’ve done, there’s always that fear, that element of “I have no idea how I’m gonna do it. What if I fail?” You know, it tends to be the negative things that you think about. And then, when you get into it, you work with people and you get to see the team that’s there for you. Because yes, you’ve gotta come and you’ve got to be prepared, but also, it’s not just you that makes the drama. Yes, people see you on the screen, but a hell of a lot of people go into it there and once you realise you’ve got this network of people who, in this business, are so skilled and so talented and so nice as well that you start feeling a little bit more okay, that it’s not all on your shoulders.

Robin: I guess that’s something that’s a bit more challenging or exposing about an audiobook. You’ve got your producer, or director; you’ve got Leo, or an equivalent.

Colin: Yep.

Robin: But ultimately, it’s just the two of you in a room, right? It’s you and a microphone. Is there something more daunting about that then, say, being on stage with a full company?

Colin: Yeah. Actually, Leo said it perfectly, I think, maybe on my first day, about the challenges of doing an audiobook: that when you, as an actor, get a job on film or TV or a play, you have your role to do. You just do the role and work on that. For an audiobook, you are, as Leo said, the director for yourself. You’re also the casting director, because you have to cast all these different roles in your head of who they could possibly be. You then are the actor, and you’re also the narrator and this kind of script supervisor in a lot of respects by scanning the script and looking, you know, reading it at the same time. And then you have to perform it. You have to do all that! So in that respect, it’s sort of a multi-disciplinary project, which demands quite a lot of you if you want to do it right, and you want to get the most out of it, and you want to challenge yourself. And again, going with that notion of being afraid of something and not knowing, again it was a territory I thought, “Yeah, bring it on!”

Robin: And I know that you’re a big audiobook listener and an Audible customer as well, so can you recommend a few audiobooks that you’ve enjoyed recently for those that are listening?

Colin: Mmhmm. I really enjoyed American Gods, the dramatised version of it that they did. Neil Gaiman’s world is so expansive, that to bring it to your ears off the page is a big challenge, and to rise to that challenge and do it so successfully, I think, was extremely rewarding. Having read the book, it absolutely...it just sucked me right in.

Matt Haig’s The Humans was great as well. He’s someone who’s able to take real life issues and he’s put them in a scenario that both entertains and touches and gets to your heart and your core in a way that is universal. And I think that anyone who listens to that can’t help but be drawn in.

And Philip Pullman narrating His Dark Materials is one...definitely one of my favourite trilogies. So to experience it in different ways and the options to experience it in different ways I think is really essential to get the most out of something. That, yes you have your own experience of maybe having read it, which I had, there was the option that I was gutted I didn’t get to see it on stage, and this *brilliant* audio adaptation of it is a new way to hear it from Philip himself as well, who has a *brilliant* voice for his work. It’s the way to hear it; you’re hearing it from the man who created it.

Robin: And then last question: Are there any books that you love, maybe classics, or things that you read as a kid that you’d love to come and spend a week recording in the studio?

Colin: Yeah, I mean, I think most kids love Roald Dahl’s stories and I think they’d just, they work great for audio adaptations. There’s classics as well: The Master and Margarita, which I know that there is audio adaptations of, but I think that’s a really great, sprawling dramatisation. And then, yeah, there’s the ones that you’d like to read, but you probably will never get to read, and I think we’ve really all got a list of those and I’d certainly bum all those on there as well. All, you know... one million of them! (chuckles)

Robin: Great, Colin. Lovely to speak to you.

Colin: Thank you.

Robin: And good luck with the rest of the recording. I’ll let you get back to it now.

Colin: Thanks a million. Cheers!

#colin morgan #interview #the worldship humility #robin morgan-bentley #audible sessions #4 feb 2019 #transcript #mine

[rustic-space-fiddle]

In Which the Newsboys Narrowly Escape the Clutches of Death

Ships: nun

Starring: Davey, Les, Elmer, Racetrack Higgins, Spot Conlon

Warnings: uh idk yet? There’s gonna be some violence? A little gore because violence usually leads to that?? Kinda dark themes??? Death???? Wow it sounds so much worse when I say it like this okay imma stop

Note: I am so sorry for Race’s accent. I’m trying a new way of writing it. It looks atrocious but it’s kinda fun to read lol GOD LUCK BOYS

——————————

You know those days where they start out slowly, just running through the routine, and your only plans are to work and sleep? Those sleepy weekends where you’ve been given the morning shift but when it’s over, you’re going to go home and crash on the couch with a good book and not move for at least the next eight hours?

Well, that’s how Davey, Les, and Elmer thought this day was going to be. Saturday, the Sabbath, the Day of Rest. Times were rough, and the rocky financial situation of the Jacobs family meant that Davey and Les had been granted the privilege to work till noon on the Sabbath. Generally they weren’t supposed to work at all, but a boy’s gotta do what a boy’s gotta do.

The clock struck noon, with the sun looking straight down over the trio in Central Park. Elmer had tagged along, enjoying their company and liking the idea of only working till noon. He was sprawled out in the grass, with Davey and Les perched on a bench and a tree branch, respectively.

“Les, get outta that tree,” Davey ordered absently.

“Why?” Les frowned down at him.

“It’s Saturday. No working.”

“We just spent all mornin’ selling papes,” Les countered. “And I’m not workin’, I’m playin’.”

“Sure.”

Les scoffed softly, and stayed put. Davey didn’t bother arguing.

Elmer rolled over onto his stomach. “Why don’ you guys work Satadays?”

“Long story,” Davey sighed. “Simply put, the Jews were enslaved a long time ago, so now we take a day off to remember that. It’s called the Sabbath. But as we’re a sort of enslaved right now, we kinda… bent the rules a bit.”

Elmer pondered this. “So, does God like, get mad if you woyk on Saturday?”

“Uh,” Davey furrowed his brow. “I mean, I don’t think so. I think he gets it.”

“Not according to Aunt Becky,” Les piped up. “She used to tell us that we were goin’ to Hell if she caught us doing anything that wasn’t sittin’.”

Elmer’s eyes widened. “Good gravy.”

“Aunt Becky doesn’t count, Les,” Davey said. “She’s almost a hundred years old and kinda losing it. Besides, she can afford to sit around all day. She’s probably just jealous.”

Elmer and Les both stifled snorts of laughter.

Down the street, a police cab rounded the corner. Elmer perked up, suddenly not as relaxed as he had been. Davey glanced over his shoulder but thought nothing of it.

“What if that cop was here to arrest us for some wild crime and it turned out we’d been framed, and we had to go on the run for like, ten years?” Les ventured imaginatively. “Wouldn’t that be somethin’?”

Davey gave him a strange look.

“He’s prob’ly here to arrest you for climbin’ trees on da Sabbath,” Elmer joked. Les laughed and chucked an acorn at him.

The cab came to stop at the edge of the grass, and the officer exited, carrying his billy club. Elmer tried not to stare at him as the officer walked toward them. Les crouched in the tree, silent.

The officer approached them calmly, looking bored but friendly, and maybe a little confused.

“Afternoon, boys,” he greeted them.

“Afternoon, Officer,” they replied.

“How’s your day been so far?” the officer asked.

The boys glanced at each other. “Good, sir,” Davey answered for them. “Made a little change, thanks for asking. You?”

The officer sighed. “Oh, well, it’s been alright.” He seemed to be trying very hard to get to the point, but didn’t know quite what the point was. “You boys gotta- you boys gotta come with me.”

A short beat.

“What for?” Davey asked, trying very hard not to sound suspicious.

“A call come down to the station that said three boys were seen robbin’ a store a little ways away a little while ago. They sorta described ‘em as bein’ short, curly, and tall. And that sorta seems to fit you boys so…”

“Hey now, we ain’t robbed nobody!” Elmer protested.

“I didn’t say you did,” the officer assured them. “I just said I gotta take you down to the station and talk to ya a little bit.”

“You mean like interrogation?” Les called down from his tree.

The officer looked up at him, shaking his head. “No, no, no. Nothin’ like that.”

Les muttered dubiously.

“Look, I got a job to do. Just come with me,” the officer repeated; he seemed rather uncomfortable. The two younger newsies looked at Davey to make the final call.

Davey bit his lip: go nicely and just let this officer do whatever he needed to do, or go loudly and get whacked around. On the Sabbath? Not bloody likely—Mrs. Jacobs would kill them.

“Alright,” Davey agreed.

“Huh?” Elmer whispered loudly.

“Let’s clear our names, okay? They’ll catch the real crooks faster this way. “ He knew they hadn’t done anything, and understood the officer’s plight. There was no reason to be anything but confident and cooperative. “Les, come down.”

Les wasn’t as trusting. “You sure about this?”

“Just get down here,” Davey insisted. “Let’s not make this any more difficult than it’s gotta be.”

The officer seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “Thanks. This’ll only take an hour or so.”

“Sure thing, Officer…?”

“Just call me Billy. Everyone does.”

“Sure thing, Officer Billy, sir.”

The three boys followed Billy to the cab, who opened up the back. “You gotta ride back here, sorry. There’s a fella in there right now, but he seems alright. I got him cuffed.”

Les and Elmer gave each other didn’t-we-say-it looks. Davey hesitated. How alright could a guy who needed cuffs be? “Uh, are you sure about that?”

“Oi, Dave!” a voice called from the cab.

That voice was really flippin’ familiar.

Davey frowned. “What the—“ He hurried to the cab doors as Billy moved aside. His jaw dropped a little. ”Racetrack?”

Inside the cab, Race waved at him with his cuffed hands, grinning lopsidedly. “Hiya!”

“Racetrack?” Les and Elmer echoed.

Am I really that surprised? Davey thought sarcastically.

“What’s he doing in handcuffs?” Les demanded Billy.

Billy raised his hands in self defense. “I pulled him out of a big fight down on 54th Street.”

Racetrack sat in the corner of the cab, hands cuffed in front him, sporting a split lip and a bloody nose, along with an colorful assortment of scratches and faint bruises. Aside from those very obvious injuries, he seemed just as stupidly chipper as always.

“What’re you doin’ ‘ere?” he asked them cheerily.

Davey spluttered. “Me? Us!? What the heck are you doing here?”

“Oh d’at’s a long story.”

Billy cleared his throat. “Erm, could you maybe tell ‘em on the way there? I’ve got… you know… work.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah.” Davey gestured at the other two to climb in, and they did, reluctantly.

“Good idea, big brother,” Les hissed as he climbed past. Davey smacked him and crawled in after him. Billy shut the door and a few seconds later the cab jolted forward on its way.

Davey whirled on Racetrack. “Alright, smart boy: explain.”

“Yeah, idiot,” Elmer said. “Who you fightin’?”

“Well!” Race settled down to tell what was undoubtedly a dramatic tale of daring and stupidity. “I was jus’ mindin’ my own business, as I always do, when suddenly—“

“Oh please,” Davey interrupted. “You’re never just ‘minding your own business’. Start over.”

Race sneered. “You t’ink you’re so smart, Dave. But I digress.” He continued. “I was walkin’ past a grocer and I saw da nicest lookin’ apple Mankind was eva blessed wit’. I was thinkin’ about swipin’ it but before I could, some udda guy did, pushed pas’ me, and ran off. Of course, wit’ my luck, d’at’s just when da grocer looked up, and of course he sees me, standin’ d’ere with my bag and lookin’ spooked, and of course he assumes I done somethin’. He yells at me—“ (and here Race imitated the disgruntled voice of the grocer) “—‘You boy!’ and I said, ‘Yeah, sir’, and he yells at me again, ‘You be takin’ things boy?’ And I says- I says to him, ‘No sir, but I seen some other fella did.” But I guess he didn’ hear me or somethin’ ‘cause a couple seconds later he was screamin’ his fool head off and comin’ at me wit’ a whole fish.

“A whole fish?” Les exclaimed.

“A whole fish. And d’en I ran b’cause, buddy, I ain’t stupid, and as I’m bookin’ it d’is fella flyin’ tackles me into some udda store’s display. So next t’ing I know, a grocer and a butcher are both trying to club me to death wit’ a whole fish and big ol’ pork roast.”

Les and Elmer were enthralled, gazing at Race with shining eyes. Davey looked unamused.

Race went on. “So d’ere I am, hollerin’ like a pigeon in a rat trap and scratchin’ and punchin’ and kickin’, and I’m gettin’ my butt handed t’me, when suddenly da butcher is fightin’ da grocer and beatin’ him wit’ da pork. People are yellin’ for da cops and tryin’ to pull d’ose two bozos off each udda, when da butcher pulls out a knife—“ (Les and Elmer gasped here; Davey’s eyebrows twitched) “—and slashes da other guy. Everybody went afta him d’en, tellin’ him t’calm down and for da love of God, put d’at bleedin’ knife down! Da cops finally showed up, two of ‘em, and d’ey broke up da fight. D’ey couldn’t get a straight story outta all t’ree of us, so d’ey decided to book us all for disturbing da peace and fightin’.”

“Wow!” Les breathed. “That’s awesome!”

“Pullin’ a knife on ya?” Elmer whooped. “Golly!”

“Amazing.” Davey said simply, arms crossed and altogether rather annoyed with Racetrack. “A wonderous tale.”

Race pretended not to notice this. “Da one cop took da butcher and da grocer t’da locker for a day or two, and ol’ Bobby here is takin’ me to juvie.” He prodded the wall with his elbow. “Ain’t d’at right, Bobby?”

“It’s Billy. Bobby’s my brother,” Billy reminded him sullenly.

“Oh, yeah.” Race grimaced, and shuddered. “I rememba Bobby, now.”

Davey glanced from Race to Billy through the small barred window. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Bobby is Billy’s twin brotha,” Race explained. “He’s just da opposite d’ough. He ain’t nice at all. In fact, he’s downright creepy. Stay away from Bobby.”

“What, does he kill people?” Elmer asked bluntly.

“Worse,” Billy answered before Race could respond, and said nothing more.

The four boys all looked at each other.

“Told ya,” Race whispered.

“Gee,” Les said, shooketh to the core. He thought for a moment. “But… if they’re twins, how will we tell ‘em apart?”

Race gestured to his chest with a constrained thumb. “Name tags, but d’ose only woyk wit’in spittin’ distance. It’s best you jus’ avoid both of ‘em.”

Up front, Billy looked miserable.

....

To be continued...

——————

Farewell notes: Yeet I hope you had fun reading Racetrack’s ungodly dialogue. Feedback is greatly appreciated. In fact, every time I get a tag or something I do a dance in my brain. Btw this story is gonna get shuckin wiLD so get ready boys

#newsies #fan fic #fan fiction #writing #rustic space drabbles #someone shoot me #im so tired #its 2 am #and im writing this bs #send me to jail #someone #please #agh #racetrack higgins #davey jacobs #les jacobs #oc #no slash #hissss #no freakin slash

[internethorrorfan]

Commentarypasta: Slenderman vs. Eyeless Jack (originally posted on deviantart in 2017)

You know what's almost as creatively bankrupt as Jeff the Killer wannabe stories and Slender Mansion fics? Versus stories. Today's gem, hailing from the Spinpasta wiki, is one such story. Because why write original suspenseful horror stories or possibly put a new creative spin on an older idea or character when you can just take two unrelated creepypasta icons and have them lay a WWE smack down on each other, right? Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story... Slenderman vs. Eyeless Jack by OptimusPrime27 There are legends of the Slender Man. Some say he's a kind nurturing father figure that lives in a big beautiful mansion full of other monsters and killers as one big happy loving family who do all sorts of cute family activities with each other when they're not going on mass murder sprees. Nobody over the age of 12 believes such things.

He is a dark spirit. He is truly evil. Wait, what you mean to tell me is that the murderous, child snatching eldritch abomination who forces people to become his slaves in order to commit horrific acts on his behalf is evil? You don't say? He stalks people and murders them. But now he is gone. He's been gone. People don't know why, but he just... disappeared. Everything changed after the Fire Nation attacked. One day, he just left. Never to be seen again. Except in terrible fanfiction written by pre teen girls. Only a few people still remember him. This sentence is so easily contestable that I won't even bother. I wouldn't even know he existed if it wasn't for that dark, dark night... and that video-game that made. That sort of helped... This joke might have been funny is the grammar wasn't messed up.

You see, Slender Man disappeared because less people feared him. This sounds awfully similar to Freddy's plot in Freddy vs. Jason. Instead of that dark, mysterious force he became that cool, popular guy. "Yo Slenderbro, pass me that brewski when you're done droppin' those phat beats!" Just that guy. People didn't care how terrifying he really was, they just liked him. What if people liked him because he was terrifying? I like Slenderman because he's creepy.  Creepy if done well at any rate. Video-games, toys, shirts, Hold the phone here, since when has there official Slenderman merch? he was everywhere. Less people feared him, and he became more of an internet icon than a despicable creature. So you can't be a despicable creature and internet icon at the same time? Someone better tell [insert well known internet personality who gets a lot of hate here)! More people knew him and they learned to stay away from him, how to avoid him, There's no official way to avoid Slenderman. and thus he didn't get their souls. Many people don't know this, but Slender Man needs souls. Many people don't know this because you completely made it up. They give him energy. He harvests them. He feeds of them. He lives. But now people don't fear him at all. He's just that guy.

That guy. He's just that guy who stalks people, kidnaps kids and drives people insane. Ya know, nothin' special.

But you see, Eyeless Jack is a different story. A story so bad its own writer personally asked for it to be deleted from the creepypasta wiki.

Eyeless Jack is a dark, undead spirit. Says who? A young boy brutally murdered, his eyes ripped out of their sockets. A vengeful spirit, Eyeless Jack's a ghost now? he spent the rest of his eternity getting his revenge. Which he accomplishes by eating random people's kidneys. Out to find the man who killed him. Until then, he could never truly be at peace. Less powerful and less famous, Jack was just a little kid compared to Slender Man. Which might have something to do with Slenderman being 6-10 feet tall. No match for this monster. Stories over! Goodnight everybody! Slender Man is basically the king of modern horror. I'm a huge Slender-verse fan and even I think that's bit of an overstatement. How can he be the king of modern horror anyway if supposedly no one takes him seriously or cares about him anymore? Creepy, mysterious. Slender Man has given existence to many wannabes and copy-cats like Jeff the Killer or Laughing Jack. Laughing Jack and Jeff the Killer have nothing at all to do with each other let alone Slenderman.

Slender Man saw potential in Eyeless Jack, and decided to use his superior power to manipulate the poor lost soul. This is literally just the plot of Freddy vs. Jason. One night, Jack was lurking through the forest, when Slender Man, now weak but still more powerful than Jack, appeared before him. Jack was shocked, but then the figure seemed to disappear into thin air. Jack turned around as Slender Man reappeared in front of him. Slender Man began to stalk the evil spirit as he ran through the forest. What sounded like static assaulted Jack's ears. He fell down and began to faint, everything else in the world fading away... Slender Man was now in control of Jack, and ready for the harvest. Now this is where I get involved. Me and my friends were having a sleep-over. It was a dark, rainy night. Lemme guess: You really wanted to write "it was a dark and stormy night" but you realized that was too cliché even for something called "Slenderman vs. Eyeless Jack" so you thought wording it differently would mask the unoriginality.  Newsflash: it didn't. We were watching a crappy, blood-filled generic horror film, yet we kept screeching. We didn't know what true horror was yet. It's certainly not this story, I'll tell you that much. Not yet. You could’ve removed those last two words entirely and just said you "didn’t know what true horror was. Yet". We heard the back door creek open, so me and my friend Anne went to go see. The suspense was killing us. Suspense from what? The door creaking open? Do you guys flip out every time there's a light breeze? The entire house was pitch black. Turn on the lights then. We stepped into the dark hallway and slowly stepped closer and closer to the door. We heard heavy breathing from behind the door. And...JUMPSCARE! We went to grab the door knob, and when we saw what was behind it, we shrieked in terror. It was just our friend Mark. You held the tension here for 1 sentence. He and his friends Brad and Chuck were here. The idiots tried to scare us. "They're gonna be dead soon is what I'm saying." Me and Mark are sort of more than friends, but not really dating. Just sort of... into each other or something. It's complicated. We watched the movie together, and the guys kept making fun of us when we got scared, but they themselves kept getting freaked out now and then. Suddenly, we heard glass breaking. Mark volunteered to go check it out because how we were such "chickens". His words, not mine. I'd say that last sentence was completely superfluous but this whole story is completely superfluous. He walked into the hallways, closing the door behind him. He saw broken glass on the floor. He knew somebody had broken in. He turned around to warn us, but saw a masked, hoody-wearing creature. I thought he was a spirit. Now he's a creature? The mask was blue, with deep, empty, black holes where the eyes were supposed to be. I asked myself this same question when reading the original Eyeless Jack but how can they tell he has no eyes when he's wearing a mask in the dark?

The creature grabbed Mark's throat, squeezing it tightly. Mark gasped for breath, but the grasp on Mark's throat increased in strength. Tighter, tighter, until Mark couldn't breathe. Mark closed his eyes and dropped down onto the ground as the creature finally let him go. The creature observed his corpse, as if marveling at his own work of demented art. Oh no, not Mark! He was such a well developed character that we knew so well!

It was half an hour later, and we were worrying. I went to go check on him and found his corpse. So all of you just stood there and waited for 30 minutes while a monster choked Mark to death instead of alerting the police? What truly wonderful people you guys are.  I nearly puked. There was no brutal damage or harm to it, but that's what scared me. In the movies it's always bloody and chopped up, nearly unrecognizable. But this was... was so real. Just a lifeless body there on the ground, nothing more to it. The police said he was strangled to death by... something. Poor Eyeless Jack always getting described as a "something". The finger prints on his neck Fingerprints is one word. Like, nobody writes "head aches" or "bed rooms" do they? were something odd. They tasted great! They scanned them and all, but the person they belonged to was murdered long ago. Jack Robins was a young boy who was brutally killed back in the 1970's. I sure am glad these cops committed every important detail of this decades old case to memory. His parents were on a date, and he was being babysat by a local teen trying to get some quick cash. You say that as if all teen babysitters aren't just looking for quick cash.

A strange man broke in while he was asleep and the sitter was busy on the phone. Being on the phone doesn't automatically cancel out all other sounds. I think she'd be able to hear someone breaking in. The man went through the house stealing everything he found useful. The sitter saw him and shrieked, only to be shot down by the robber. The robber found Jack and pulled out his carving knife. Jack saw him and shrieked. The robber, not wanting to get caught, shot him, and then cut his eyes out with the knife. Why? How could cutting out Jack's eyes possibly benefit him in any way? If he's trying to be sneaky then carrying someone's eyeballs around would be super easy to trace. There is literally absolutely no reason for this guy to cut out Jack's eyes other than "well he's gotta become Eyeless Jack somehow!"

I was shocked when I heard this. That poor kid. But what was the killer doing with his fingerprints? Was it a coincidence? You don't know what coincidences are, do you? Was the killer the same one who did this terrible, terrible thing all those years back, and the sicko kept Jack's hands with him? If the killer took Jack's hands the cops would've said that. How is that your first thought? Why would a robber cut off the hand of someone they murdered, keep it on their person and use it decades later to strangle some random person to death? I was scared. Me and my parents were staying in a hotel room since the murder, but I couldn't help but wonder if he was still in the house... Meanwhile, in the woods, Jack woke up. He saw that he was in Slender Man's body. I'm sorry, what? This is a body swapping story now? Why does "Slenderman vs. Eyeless Jack" need to be about body swapping? But more importantly, he actually saw. He discovered that Slender Man didn't just take over his body, he switched both of their souls into each other's bodies. I have so many questions. This story keeps calling Jack a spirit so how can he have even have a body/soul to swap? Since when did Slenderman have a soul? Didn't this story also say Slenderman ate souls?  How would swapping souls allow Eyeless Jack to see? How can EJ do all the things he does if he can't see? I have the sneaking suspicion that none of these questions will go answered. Jack, now able to see, used this to follow the Slender Man's foot prints to the house. The police were investigating the scene of the crime, and went into the basement. The entire house was totally dark. If the power went out it'd be nice of you to let us know that. The two police man walked slowly down the stairs, and entered the dark room. The basement was flooded up to the police men's ankles because of the rain. Our house was an old one and it was always in a really crappy condition. Get it remodeled it then.

They found the old light switch and flipped it, only to be attacked and killed by Slender Man in Jack's body. He took on the other cops as they ran down the stairs. Their bullets did nothing. The body may have been harmed, but it was just flesh and bones. Useless flesh and bones. If they're so useless why did Slenderman even do this whole body swapping thing in the first place? How does switching souls with Eyeless Jack benefit Slenderman in anyway?

As the battle in the basement was going on, Jack in Slender Man's body broke down the front door, searching for his impostor. He rushed down the stairs to confront Slender Man. Slender threw his knife into Jack's face, distracting him as he grabbed a metal pipe up from off the floor. He hit the already dazed Jack in the head, knocking him to the floor. Remember: Jack's in Slenderman's body. So according to this story Slenderman can be stabbed, dazed and knocked to the ground. Jack got up and pulled the knife out of his head, impaling Slender Man with it. Slender Man seemed to slow down for a bit, but no real harm was done. "Besides the gaping chest wound I mean." Slender Man tore the knife out and dropped it to the ground. It was useless. Slender Man hit Jack with an uppercut, grabbed him and threw him into the furnace, closing him in and turning it on. Jack struggled to break free, but Slender Man was holding him in with all his strength. Eyeless Jack's body is capable of picking up and throwing the body of Slenderman, who is a 6-10 foot monster with teleportation powers, tentacles, and psychic abilities. Ok then. Jack pushed against the furnace with all his might, and finally jumped out, tackling Slender Man over. He held Slender Man's face down under the water, trying to drown him, but Slender Man managed to push up and knock Eyeless Jak down. Wow, Slenderman knocked Eyeless Jack down so hard the c fell out of his name! Jack reached for a nearby tool bag and pulled out a drill, sticking it into Slender Man's face. He turned it on, and it began to cut into his face. Why is EJ trying to kill Slenderman when they've switched bodies? I assume the body swapping is the reason EJ is mad at Slenderman in the first place so why would he ruin his chances of ever getting his real body back? Guys, Eyeless Jack is drilling into his own face. Slender Man grabbed the drill and pulled it out, throwing it over onto the stair case. Getting shot, drowned and stabbed didn't kill him so cutting into his face with a drill probably wouldn't either. Shouldn't Eyeless Jack know the limitations of his own body? Slender picked up the carving knife, slashed Jack across the chest with it, and jumped up and cut a pipe above Jack's head. Tons of sewage poured down onto Jack, knocking him to the ground and covering him with the slop. Did the writer of this even know Slenderman's power set?

Slender Man left, leaving Jack to die. Slender Man grabbed a thing of matches on the kitchen counter, lit one, and threw it to the ground, burning down the building as he turned and ran out the back door. The entire house burnt up and collapsed in, crushing Jack completely and seemingly finishing him off. Slenderman is leaving his own body to burn to death. Slenderman of all beings should know fire doesn't hurt him! The police told me and my parents about what happened. The cops that were there were killed before any of this crap even happened. They didn't know anything about the two killers or what really went on, but they knew that the house burnt down. I was devastated, but I was hoping that... that THING... was killed in the fire. Can't be, the story's not over yet. Unfortunately. I thought it was all over. I wish it were all over so I could do something more productive with my time like watching paint dry. I told my parents I was ready to go back to school, but they hesitated to let me. We talked it through, and they decided I was okay.  What teenager wants to go to school?

The next day at school, my friends from the sleepover, Anne and Lauren, asked me what happened. I told them everything. Jack, how Mark died, the house burning down, etc.,etc. They were shocked. Everyone who overheard was shocked too. One kid approached us. He said that Jack never really died, and that he is still alive. Everybody that he was crazy, but he said that Jack's spirit still wanders the Earth, searching for the man who killed him. Who is this kid and how does he know any of this? The janitor saw all the commotion, and told the kid to go down to the principal's office. He turned to the rest of us and said to get to class. The principal told the kid that the legend of Eyeless Jack was just crazy talk.

Rumor spread that all these stories of monsters and ghosts and stuff was all actually real and the adults were keeping it from us, like some crazy conspiracy. This kind of conspiracy I hope. Now it was like a rebellion was on the horizon. How could these things really exist without anybody letting us know? It's our right to know these kinds of things! If they're trying to protect us it clearly isn't working because now Mark has been murdered! OK we get it author, you really like Freddy vs. Jason. Can you please quit rehashing plot elements from it?

I was angry. We were all angry. I'm angry because it feels like this story should be over by now. But we still had to carry on. The prom was coming soon, and I planned on asking Mark to go with me and maybe we could officially start dating, but then this whole crazy thing happened. Multiple people, including your own boyfriend,  have been brutally killed by supernatural forces and you're worrying about the damn prom? I went with Brad, Mark's friend, but I felt really guilty. Just because Mark was killed I went out with his best friend? It was messed up, I knew it. Yeah, taking your boyfriend's best friend to the prom the day after said boyfriend was murdered is pretty messed up.

Everything was fine at the prom, until... it happened. www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xe0Ba… Chuck and Anne sneaked away to make out or something dumb, and then he came. Obvious joke is obvious. They went over by the lockers and made sure nobody was looking, but then they heard footsteps. They thought they were caught, but it was much worse. That masked man that strangled Mark. It was here! It grabbed Chuck and held him up against the wall by his throat. Anne shrieked in terror as the creature stared into Chuck's eyes. Stared deep down into his soul. You'd think someone called "Eyeless Jack" would have a hard time staring at people. Then it took him and it threw him straight out the window. A car was driving by, and Chuck's body landed straight on the windshield, nearly shattering the glass. The principal and the gym teacher both came running to help us out, but they were no match. The masked man grabbed both of the two and hit their heads together, knocking them unconscious, and then he stuffed both of their bodies into a locker. He slammed the door, locking them inside, and then turned around to face Anne. He ripped a locker door off of the wall and hit her upside the head with it, knocking her down. Why is Slendy-in-Jack's body here in the first place? Doesn't he have better things to be doing than picking off stupid teenagers? She got up and ran, and the man... no, not a man... the DEMON rushed after her. Demon? Wasn't he a spirit earlier?

She ran into the gymnasium, where we all were, and told us to run. Too late. The creature bursted in and impaled her with a leg he tore off a desk. Ah yes desks: a common thing to find in gymnasiums. She dropped to the floor, and he tore the leg out of her corpse. We all ran out screaming, but some of us weren't as lucky. Me, Brad, Lauren, and the janitor all got out alive and took off in Brad's van. The janitor drove us away, and said that he knew about Eyeless Jack. What a totally non contrived coincidence that some random janitor at some non descript school knows all about Eyeless Jack, Slenderman and the conspiracy covering them up. He confessed to us, telling us that the kid from the hallway was right all along. He was privy to this information how exactly? They just didn't want kids knowing to try and keep them safe, but it clearly didn't work. As we were driving, a flaming man in a tuxedo ran out into the road,   Tuxedos and business suits aren't the same thing. and we accidentally hit him. The janitor thought it was a victim of Jack from the prom, He didn't notice that Slenderman was 6 feet tall and you know, lacking a face? so he rushed out to save him, but the faceless man got up and grabbed him, throwing him into the sky with all his might. We screamed in horror, and Brad leaped into the driver's seat, ramming over the man. So did the janitor come down or did he fly into outer space or something?

We drived off as it tried chasing us on feet, but we managed to escape. We were all scared, and none of us knew what was going on. I remembered the faceless tuxedo man, though. I could never forget him. It was the Slender Man. But he was real? Of course he's real! You've seen him attack people and you just ran him over with your car. UGH. We didn't know what was happening, You and me both. we just knew to get away as quick as possible. Meanwhile, Slender Man and Jack had a score to settle themselves. Jack (in Slender Man's body)arrived at the school to face his foe. A high school: truly the best place to stage the climatic showdown of your story.  The two saw each other, and nothing could stop them. Nothing else in the world mattered. It was just them, face to face again at last. Sure, Slender Man had won it the last two times, but now Jack knew better. Jack grabbed the knocked-over punch table, lifted it up over his head, and threw it right at Slender Man, knocking him over. It's damn confusing reading this and having to remember that EJ and Slenderman have switched bodies. Almost like it's pointless or something. Jack quickly ran over and started punching Slender Man repeatedly. Is EJ gonna use a single one of Slenderman's powers while inhabiting his body? Slender Man kicked Jack in the chest and knocked him over. Guess that answers my question. Slender Man started to kick Jack in the face over and over, even stomping on his head. Jack got up and overpowered Slender Man, picking him up and throwing him up on the stage. Jack ran over and jumped up, hitting Slender Man in the chest several times and damaging his decaying ribcage. Jack grabbed Slender Man by the throat and threw him down onto the ground. Jack grabbed one of the band's amps, lifted it up with all his strength, and dropped it down onto Slender Man. Jack picked up a bottle of water off the floor and poured onto his semi-crushed opponent, frying him completely. Eyeless Jack has apparently succeed in destroying his own body. Hooray?

Jack, victorious, left to find me and the others. We were at Brad's house, Can we please just stop with the constant POV and tense changes because this story is testing my patience as it is. and we went inside we saw his dad, dead, hanging from the ceiling by a rusty metal chain. NO! Not Brad's dad! He was almost as well developed a character as Mark! We were shocked, and Brad broke out crying. Me and Lauren let him have his moment, so we went in his room to discuss it. Lauren said that maybe somebody in the town was the one who killed him and that's why this is happening, but I knew it had to be something more. You think it might have something to do with those 2 monster guys running around? You know, the ones you killed your friend and that janitor right in front of you?

I mean, why was Slender Man there? Better question: why is this story still going? Brad walked in, still sad, and asked what was going on. Lauren told him her theory, but he didn't believe it either. Suddenly, a corpse was thrown straight through the window, crashing onto the foor. We all shrieked in terror as we saw the message. It was... written in blood on his chest! It said "If you yourself do not release than it will come to take a piece". "YOU ARE WRONG". He was spying on our conversation? How? Why? For what reason? Suddenly, Jack kicked the door down. Of course, he was in Slender Man's body so we couldn't tell it was Jack at first. How could you tell it was Jack after the fact? How do you know any of this crap involving Jack and Slenderman? He as holding the corpse of Brad's dad, and threw it right at Brad, knocking him to the ground. Brad screamed, and we all ran off, being chased by Jack. We got outside and into the van, but the tires were slashed. Suddenly, Jack ran out of the house and jumped up on the hood of the car, kicking the windshield. It shatter and broke open, and he reached in to get us. Brad kicked him in the face and we ran out, trying to escape on foot. Suddenly, a beaten up and bloodied Slender Man (in Jack's body) I think everybody knows they've switched bodies by now! ambushed us and stabbed Brad in the heart several times with his knife. We shrieked and ran off, when suddenly a car stopped right in front of us on the road. It was Brad's mom, home from shopping! How wonderfully contrived. She said she heard about what was happening and immediately left the store to get us! We drove off as the two monsters fought each other once again. Slender Man stabbed Jack in the face several times, but Jack was unharmed. Which Slenderman should know wouldn't work because it's his body. He grabbed Slender Man, lifting him up off the ground, and threw him into the streets. Jack charged at him, but Slendy kicked him in the stomach and then got up and punched his face several times. Jack overpowered Slendy and pushed him down to the ground, elbowing him in the face. The two struggled and pushed eachother around, until Slender Man managed to push Jack up and throw him off of him. Slender Man got up and ran off to find us, leaving behind Jack. Just finish him off already! There's no reason whatsoever to chase after these dumb kids!

We told Brad's mom what happened, from what happened to Mark, to Jack, to the house burning down, and what happened at the prom. She was depressed that her husband and her son were both murdered, and we were sad about all the murders too. "All these murders are a major bummer, man."

Suddenly, a truck rammed into the car and sent us off road into the forest. The truck chased us into the woods until we hit a tree and the car went tumbling down a path. We jumped out the first chance we got and watched in horror as the car rolled down the nearby docks and fell into the water. You're still alive...how, exactly? 

The truck came crashing after us, and Slender Man stepped out. He began to chase us, and we managed to get to an abandoned factory. We picked up a wooden plank and put in through the door handles, locking him out. If Slenderman was in his own body he could just teleport in the building. Hell, he could've teleport them outside the building if he had his old body. See what I mean about how switching bodies with Eyeless Jack doesn't benefit him in anyway? We went into another room so we wouldn't be able to hear the freak pounding on the door. We were terrified. There was no hope left. What could save us now? Hopefully nobody because all of you are such bland characters that I couldn't care less whether you lived or died.

Suddenly, Jack arrived. Slender Man turned around to face the creature, and was immediately kicked in the gut. He stumbled backwards and slammed into the door. Oh goody, another fight scene. Because we haven't had enough of those now, have we? He grabbed Jack by the throat and began to strangle him. He eventually just lifted Jack up by the throat and threw him down into the ground. He kicked Jack in the face several times, but Jack got back up. How do you kick a faceless man in the face? Jack grabbed Slender Man and threw him over into the distance. Slender Man saw a little canoe and picked up the ore, charging at Jack and impaling him through the ribs with it. Slenderman's body can apparently be impaled with a rock. Sure. Why not?

Jack pulled the ore out and hit Slender Man upside the head, knocking him down. Slender Man got up again, only to be smacked by the ore and sent flying. Slender Man landed on the docks, and Jack ran over at him. Meanwhile, we thought the coast was clear so we opened the door and looked outside, stupidly enough. We saw the two fighting on the docks and couldn't help but watch. Standing there and watching the two fight is obviously a better option than running away.

Jack hit Slender Man with an uppercut, knocking him over. Slender Man got back up and punched Jack in the face repeatedly, knocking him back a bit. Jack picked the ore back up and hit Slender Man in the face with it, knocking him down. Jack was serious now. This time...it's personal. He lifted the ore up above his head and pushed it down into Slender Man's chest. He kept stabbing him and stabbing him with it until Slender Man managed to get up and take the ore from him, throwing it into the water.

Lauren yelled out to us, pointing at a stick of dynamite she found. Oh there just happened to be a stick of dynamite lying around on these boat docks? Oh how convenient. What's next, is Brad's mom going to pull out a lighter she just so happened to have and use it to light the dynamite so they can kill Slenderman and Eyeless Jack? Brad's mom pulled out her lighter and lit it. I was joking! We threw it onto the dock as the two were fighting. This was it. Our last hope. Slender Man and Jack were brutally beating each other, and didn't notice the TNT. Suddenly, it finally went off, and it blew the two into the air. They went off into the sky, and crashed down into their watery graves. It was finally over! Oh thank God! Finally I can move on with my life! We were saved! We ran out to get back to town, but little did we know it wasn't over. Why not? Everything's been resolved. There's no reason to keep going.

Slender Man and Eyeless Jack awoke in a fiery pit, surrounded by a whole crowd of demons. They seemed to be chanting some weird spell, when a strange, creepy statue of Link from the Legend of Zelda series Oh come on! appeared before the two, and smiled deviously.

"Men..." he said, "What seems to be the problem?" You couldn't even have BEN say either of his catchphrases? Either "You shouldn't have done that." or "You've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?" would have worked here. I sort of appreciate the shout out to one of the unused endings from Freddy vs. Jason but missed opportunity here, come on. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And that, my friends was "Slenderman vs. Eyeless Jack". I have but 1 question to ask: What the hell was the point of any of that? Slenderman eating souls, Eyeless Jack being a spirit, the town trying to cover them both up, Slenderman needing people to fear him in order to gain power and Eyeless Jack's whole backstory were all introduced and then forgotten about. None of the human characters were interesting and they barley impacted the plot at all. The body swapping was completely unnecessary and just made everything extra confusing for no reason and there were just way too many fight scenes. The whole thing just dragged. On the plus side the sentence structure was good and there were relatively few grammar mistakes. It's just that on top of all the other problems the whole premise was silly and it took itself way too seriously from the get go, which is my problem with most vs. fics to be honest.

#old stuff from my deviantart